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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.
Libba Bray
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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Step
Steps
Fire
Family
Boyfriend
House
Steal
Stealing
Killed
Dog
More quotes by Libba Bray
When she can't bring me to heal with scolding, she bends me to shape with guilt.
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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.
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I hear they feed you in Sing Sing,” Evie muttered. “Three squares a day.” “Evangeline,” Will said with a sigh. “Charity begins at home.” “So does mental illness.
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But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?
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But sons are a different matter to a man. More a duty than an indulgence.
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Careful there, Poet. I might start to believe you.
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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.
Libba Bray
I'm just saying it's not all sand castles and ninjas.
Libba Bray
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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What you want can be yours. But you must first know what it is you want.
Libba Bray
Women who have power are always feared.
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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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Write like it matters, and it will.
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Petra turned to her. Everybody lies about who they are. Name one person here who isn't doing that and I will drop out right now! Shanti felt that snake of truth coil around her legs, threatening to squeeze. I didn't mean... No one ever does. Petra said, shoving the baton back at Shanti.
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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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Truth casts a spell of its own.
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My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Yes, I am one of those dreaded P.K.s - Preachers Kids. Be afraid.
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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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The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.
Libba Bray
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.
Libba Bray