Quote

Tonight, she went into the woods, and I fear she shall live in the woods of my soul for the rest of my days.

Libba Bray

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Fear
Soul
Live
Tonight
Woods
Rest
Shall
Went
Days

More quotes by Libba Bray

Image
Any book that can help you survive the slings and arrows of adolescence is a book to love for life 'The Catcher in the Rye' did just that, and I still do love it.
Libba Bray
Image
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.
Libba Bray
Image
I'd like to thank readers. Every time you open a book, it is a strike against ignorance. Unless you're reading Sarah Palin.
Libba Bray
Image
There are no wrong decisions ― only different ones.
Libba Bray
Image
If this were a movie, I would bust a secret move so fierce the entire place would be razed to the ground. I'd finish with something snappy like And don't forget my soda, punk while I strolled off into the night.
Libba Bray
Image
HI. I’m from Arkansas, the cantaloupe state. And tonight, I hope you will hold my melons close to your heart and vote me your Miss Teen Dream.
Libba Bray
Image
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.
Libba Bray
Image
I change the world, the world changes me.
Libba Bray
Image
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.
Libba Bray
Image
I can see his pain, see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, over and over, and I understand what it costs him to hide it all.
Libba Bray
Image
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.
Libba Bray
Image
Maybe girls need an island to find themselves. Maybe they need a place where no one's is watching them so they can be who they really are
Libba Bray
Image
When you looked up to the sky and cried 'Why?' sometimes the sky shrugged, yet other times it answered with warm assurance of linked hands.
Libba Bray
Image
The vicar, whose name is Reverend Waite, leads us in prayers that all begin with 'O Lord' and end with our somehow not being worthy-sinners who have always been sinners and will forever more be sinners until we die. It isn't the most optimistic outlook I've ever heard but we're encouraged to keep trying anyway.
Libba Bray
Image
Do not be tempted by English roses. Their beauty fades, but their thorns are forever.
Libba Bray
Image
On the Bowery, in the ornate carcass of a formerly grand vaudeville theater, a dance marathon limps along. The contestants, young girls and their fellas, hold one another up, determined to make their mark, to bite back at the dreams sold to them in newspaper advertisements and on the radio. They have sores on their feet but stars in their eyes.
Libba Bray
Image
We don't look at each other anymore. Not really. Not since I pulled him from that opium den. Now when I look at him, I see the addict. And when he looks at me, he sees what he would rather not remember. I wish I could be his adored little girl again, sitting at his side.
Libba Bray
Image
You evah hear of a magic screw?' I cough back a laugh. 'No. No, sir.
Libba Bray
Image
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
Image
A man bumps me on his busy way without so much as an apology. But that is all right. I forgive you, busy man about town with the sharp elbows. Hail and farewell to you! For I, Gemma Doyle, am to have a splendid Christmas in London town. All shall be well. God rest us merry gentlemen. And gentlewomen.
Libba Bray