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May I suggest that you all read? And often. Believe me, it's nice to have something to talk about other than the weather and the Queen's health. Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
Libba Bray
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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Often
Queens
May
Weather
Mind
Requires
Something
Garden
Cultivating
Believe
Health
Cage
Nice
Cages
Talk
Suggest
Read
Queen
More quotes by Libba Bray
To those who will see, the world waits.
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In a world like this one, only the random makes sense.
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It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.
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Books are, at their heart, dangerous. Yes, dangerous. Because they challenge us: our prejudices, our blind spots. They open us to new ideas, new ways of seeing. They make us hurt in all the right ways. They can push down the barricades of ‘them’ & widen the circle of ‘us.
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The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.
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Goodbye, I whisper at last, when it no longer matters and there is no one to hear it but the window.
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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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Things aren't good or bad in and of themselves. It's what we do with them that makes them so.
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When the world moves forward too fast for some people, they try to pull us all back with their fear.
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She is the elephant’s eyebrows,” Evie whispered appreciatively. “Those jewels! How her neck must ache.” “That’s why Bayer makes aspirin,” Mabel whispered back, and Evie smiled, knowing that even a socialist wasn’t immune to the dazzle of a movie star.
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Don't you? if you keep them from the magic, they will never know what their lives could be.' They will remain protected,' Asha insists. No, 'I say. 'Only untested.
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Scoring well on tests is the sort of happy thing that gets the school district the greenbacks they crave. Understanding and appreciating the material are secondary.
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No? Part girl, part wolf? Do they lick their butter knives?
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I invited myself. Thought this table needed some class.
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Judge not, lest ye be judged.
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Around us the night creatures have their say. We are surrounded by a symphony of crickets and frogs. Neither of us feels the need to speak, and I suppose that is one of the qualities I find comforting in Kartik. We can be alone together.
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In them, she saw the sham of her life laid out like a book, the foolish belief that she, that anyone, could escape the consequences of this world, could flee from death. That was the deceit. The true serpent in the garden.
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No one can steal our dream.
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When I dream, I dream of him. For several nights now he’s come to me, waving from a distant shore as if he’s been waiting patiently for me to arrive. He doesn’t utter a word, but his smile says everything: I’ve missed you.
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Write like it matters, and it will.
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