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They swoon over Tom, who preens for them, bowing, which sets them to blushing and giggling. God help us all.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Helping
Swoon
Giggling
Bowing
Blushing
Toms
Sets
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More quotes by Libba Bray

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There is an ancient tribal proverb I once heard in India. It says that before we can see properly we must first shed our tears to clear the way.
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Mawah meenon ne le plus poohlala, I say with an affected bow.
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In a world like this one, only the random makes sense.
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Nobody Wants to be themselves. That's why there's tv. -Ephigenia.
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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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But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?
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No, I call. Come back. I'm here, he says. But I can't see. It's too bright. You can't hold back the light, Gemma. I'm here. Trust me.
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Just once I’d like to meet a fella who isn’t a phony. Somebody who doesn’t wanna buy me a fur so he can show me off to his boys.
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We've barley stepped into the bright glow of the realms when everything goes dark.
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Travel opens your mind as few other things do. It is its own form of hypnotism, and I am forever under its spell
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Retribution is a dog chasing its tail.
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You’ve been assigned an identity since birth. Then you spend the rest of your life walking around in it to see if it really fits. You try on all these different selves and abandon just as many. But really it’s about dismantling all that false armor, getting down to what’s real. -Going Bovine
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You set fire to my house, killed my family, and ate my dog. But steal my boyfriend? That's a step too far.
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You evah hear of a magic screw?' I cough back a laugh. 'No. No, sir.
Libba Bray
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That's what living in their world is-a big lie. An illusion where everyone looks the other way and pretends that nothing unpleasant exists at all, no goblins of the dark, no ghosts of the soul.
Libba Bray
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Prepared to fly, even if she has to loose her legs to do it
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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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Can we really conquer chaos so easily? If that were so, I should be able to prune the pandemonium of my own soul into something neat and tidy rather than this maze of wants and needs and misgivings that has me forever feeling as if I cannot fit into the landscape of things.
Libba Bray
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She never utters a sound even when she's crying, and that makes me a little sad. Doesn't seem right. When you cry, people should hear you. The world should stop.
Libba Bray
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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