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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

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But the past cannot be changed, and we carry our choices with us, forward, into the unknown. We can only move on.
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Its so daunting to walk into a classroom or a school auditorium. Its like the worlds weirdest blind date. I know all the students are thinking, Who is this tool standing up in front of us?
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Sometimes I see things, I think. Out of the corner of my eye, taunting me, and then it’s gone. And dreams. Such horrible dreams. What if something terrible happened to me? What if I am damaged? The rain is a cool kiss on my sleeve as I link my arm with hers. We’re all damaged somehow.
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Brought to you by The Corporation: In your homes and in your pants.
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She wished she were as inconsequential as the ghosts in her dreams.
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- So my own sister will not promote me? Speaking of which, weren't you supposed to find me a beautiful future wife with a small fortune? Have you had any success on that front? - Yes - I have warned them all.
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What happened to the winner Adina asked. She tripped. And the first runner-up? Miss Michigan cracked her knuckles. She tripped, too.
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In our travels, we have come across many equations--math for understanding the universe, for making music, for mapping stars, and also for tipping, which is important. Here is our favorite equation: Us plus Them equals All of Us. It is very simple math. Try it sometime. You probably won’t even need a pencil.
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She knew what it was to wait for someone who would never come home. She knew that grief, like a scar, faded but never really went away.
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They kept the lie going, and the people loved it.
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You evah hear of a magic screw?' I cough back a laugh. 'No. No, sir.
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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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It is a giggle full of high spirits and merry mischief, proof that we never lose our girlish selves, no matter what sort of women we become.
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Harold Brodie is a louse and a lothario who cheats at cards and has a different girl in his rumble seat every week. That coupe of his is pos-i-tute-ly a petting palace. And he’s a terrible kisser to boot.” Evie’s parents stared in stunned silence. “Or so I’ve heard.
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There is never any turning back Gemma. You have to go forward. Make the future yours.
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She smiled as sweetly as a show poster for the glorified, all-American Ziegfeld girl just before dumping her second cigarette into Wally’s fresh cup of coffee.
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Will you punish me forever?
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- 'Music opens your soul, makes you ready.' - 'Ready for what?' - He smiles big. 'Exactly.
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When she can't bring me to heal with scolding, she bends me to shape with guilt.
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It isn't that we do what we want. It's that we're allowed to want at all.
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