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He took comfort in the neon signs, the wild strands of jazz creeping out of clubs whenever happy swells of people pushed through the doors in their finery.
Libba Bray
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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Whenever
Swells
Jazz
Creeping
Comfort
Neon
Doors
Strands
Took
Pushed
Happy
Signs
People
Clubs
Wild
Finery
More quotes by Libba Bray
We're all damaged somehow.-A Great and Terrible Beauty
Libba Bray
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
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
A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.
Libba Bray
When she can't bring me to heal with scolding, she bends me to shape with guilt.
Libba Bray
Travel opens your mind as few other things do. It is its own form of hypnotism, and I am forever under its spell
Libba Bray
Retribution is a dog chasing its tail.
Libba Bray
Write like it matters, and it will.
Libba Bray
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.
Libba Bray
I've heard it said that God is in the details. It's the same with the truth. Leave out the details, the crucial heart, and you can damn someone with the bare bones of it.
Libba Bray
- 'Music opens your soul, makes you ready.' - 'Ready for what?' - He smiles big. 'Exactly.
Libba Bray
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.
Libba Bray
...because really, sometimes the irony gods just get drunk.
Libba Bray
I know because I read...Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
Libba Bray
She knew what it was to wait for someone who would never come home. She knew that grief, like a scar, faded but never really went away.
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
Could I have a Sloe Gin Fizz, without the gin? What's the point of that, Miss? the waiter said. Tomorrow morning, Mabel said.
Libba Bray
But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?
Libba Bray
She loved attention. It was like a glass of the best champagne—bubbly and intoxicating—and as with champagne, she always wanted more of it. Still, she didn’t want to seem like an easy mark. “If you must know, I’ve come to join a convent,” Evie said, testing him.
Libba Bray
We have traveled through space and time. We have been many places. Visited many worlds. And there is good news: the acoustics everywhere are terrific.
Libba Bray