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I hate high heels. Walking in high heels for eight hours a day should be forbidden by the Geneva Convention.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Conventions
Heels
Eight
Walking
High
Hours
Geneva
Hate
Convention
Forbidden

More quotes by Libba Bray

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Adina gave a little shriek. That fish just swam past my leg! Creepy! Where did it go? To your right! Two o'clock! Get it! You are officially the most bloodthirsty vegetarian ever.
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Agent Jones held Sinjin’s face in his hands. “I’m going to make balloon animals. People need balloon animals.” “How right you are, strange delusional man,” Sinjin said.
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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.
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I'm floating inside my skin. I could go on floating like this for days. Right now, the real world with its heartbreak and disappointments is just a pulse against the protective membrane we've drunk ourselves into. It's somewhere outside us, waiting. A Great and Terrible Beauty, Page 141, by
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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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Next time we see you, you’ll be on trial for some ingenious crime!” Dottie said with a laugh. Evie grinned. “Just as long as they know my name.
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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.
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You can’t blame a fella for kissing the prettiest girl in New York, can you, sister?” Sam’s grin was anything but apologetic. Evie brought up her knee quickly and decisively, and he dropped to the floor like a grain sack. “You can’t blame a girl for her quick reflexes now, can you, pal?
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She shrieks above the din. If you wish a battle, I shall give it. I am the last of my kind. I shall not lie down without a fight.
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There is never any turning back Gemma. You have to go forward. Make the future yours.
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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.
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Yes, go on. Leave. You're always coming and going. The rest of us are stuck here. Do you think he'd still love you if he knew who you are? He doesn't really care—only when it suits him.
Libba Bray
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It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.
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They kept the lie going, and the people loved it.
Libba Bray
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Retribution is a dog chasing its tail.
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The police have asked for my help. There's been a murder. A murder! Oh, my. Let me just change my shoes, Evie said excitedly. It won't be a minute.
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I know because I read...Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
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I've been poked and prodded in places I'd always prided myself on keeping untouched for that one special doctor who gives me a ring and a promise someday.
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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.
Libba Bray
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No one had ever said anything like that to Evie. Her parents always wanted to advise or instruct or command. They were good people, but they needed the world to bend to them, to fit into their order of things. Evie had never really quite fit, and when she tried, she’d just pop back out, like a doll squeezed into a too-small box.
Libba Bray