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We're like pretty horses, and just as on horses, they mean to put blinders on us so we can't look left or right but only straight ahead where they would lead.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Pretty
Left
Look
Blinders
Looks
Horses
Right
Ahead
Mean
Straight
Would
Horse
Like
Lead

More quotes by Libba Bray

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In books, the truth makes everything good and fine. The good prevail. The wicked are punished. There is happiness. But it's not like that really, is it? No, I say. I suppose it only makes everything known.
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Why does everyone want to own me? Pippa mumbles. She's got her head in her hands. Why do they all want to control my life -- how I look, whom I see, what I do or don't do? Why can't they just let me alone? Because you're beautiful, Ann answers, watching the fire lick her palm. People always think they can own beautiful things.
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Men have feelings too, you know. You bruise the petals of my manflower.
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A place to keep all your secrets
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I'm going to eviscerate you and leave your organs on a pike in the yard as a warning to those who wear large jewelry.
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There are times when one friend requires the blind faith of another.
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Taylor clapped for attention. “Miss New Mexico, let’s not get all down in the bummer basement where the creepy things live. There are people in heathen China who don’t even have airline trays. We have a lot to be grateful for.
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Because 'You're perfect just the way you are,' is what your guidance counselor says. And she's an alcoholic.
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I had thought Felicity dangerous a moment ago, when she felt powerful. I was wrong. Wounded and powerless, she is more dangerous than I could imagine.
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Everyone seems to want more form me. I am a thoroughly disappointing girl around. I shall wear a scarlet 'D' upon my bosom for all to see so that they will know not to raise their expectations.
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And now I understand that truth casts a spell of its own, one I'm not sure of how to hold on to, though I'm desperate to try.
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Could I have a Sloe Gin Fizz, without the gin? What's the point of that, Miss? the waiter said. Tomorrow morning, Mabel said.
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Warning: If you are insufferable, do not walk here. We shall eat you down to the marrow.
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They don't know what they're in for at Spence, getting me, a ghost of a girl who'll nod and smile and take her tea but who isn't really here.
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The hand you hold the longest is your own.
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It's as if I've inherited a skin I cannot quite fit, and so I walk about constantly pulling and and tugging, pinning and pruning, trying desperately to fill it out, hoping that no one will look at me struggling and say, 'That one there- she's a fraud, Look how she doesn't fit at all.
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Peace is not happenstance. It is a living fire that must be fed constantly. It must be tended to with vigilance, else it dies out.
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Jericho lay back down on his side, watching her breathe just an arm's length from him. She was not beautiful while she slept her mouth hung open and she snored very lightly, and this, despite everything that had happened, made him smile.
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Tonight, she went into the woods, and I fear she shall live in the woods of my soul for the rest of my days.
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Do you think they missed him terribly when he fell? Did God cry over his lost angel, I wonder?
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