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It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Keeps
Husband
Future
Sealed
Freshness
Preserve
Preserves
Purity

More quotes by Libba Bray

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We've barley stepped into the bright glow of the realms when everything goes dark.
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Oh, sure. Of course, they say now that we’ve got Freud and the motorcar, God is dead.” “He’s not dead just very tired.
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I change the world, the world changes me.
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If there was one truth Evie had learned in her short life, it was that forgiveness was easier to seek than permission. She didn’t plan to ask for either one.
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I refuse to let the past find me here.
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I'd like to thank readers. Every time you open a book, it is a strike against ignorance. Unless you're reading Sarah Palin.
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Why should we girls not have the same privileges as men? Why do we police ourselves so stringently- whittling each other down with cutting remarks or holding ourselves back from greatness with a harness woven of fear and shame and longing? If we do not deem ourselves worthy first, how shall we ever ask for more?
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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.
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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.
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We're all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess that's what I love about books--they are thin strands of humanity that tether us to one another for a small bit of time, that make us feel less alone or even more comfortable with our aloneness, if need be.
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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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I wouldn’t expect you to get it, Daisy. You don’t look at anything besides Photoplay—and even then somebody’s gotta explain the pictures to you.” Daisy’s mouth hung open in outrage. “Well, I never!” “Yeah, that’s what you tell all your fellas, but the rest of us aren’t buying it. Go away, now, Daisy. Shoo, little fly!
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They swoon over Tom, who preens for them, bowing, which sets them to blushing and giggling. God help us all.
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There was something about the island that made the girls forget who they had been. All those rules and shalt nots. They were no longer waiting for some arbitrary grade. They were no longer performing. Waiting. Hoping. They were becoming. They were.
Libba Bray
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I can be whatever. You can be whatever. We can be whatever. Whatever, together.
Libba Bray
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So much of the literature we had to read for high school English class was filled with victimized, tragic, symbolic women who spurred the plot forward with their inevitable shunning/death/shunning-followed-by-pregnancy-followed-by-death timelines.
Libba Bray
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We create the illusions we need to go on.
Libba Bray
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Oh, I didn't think it wise to hide it. Might not be able to find it again, I say, cheerily. It's sitting in plain view on your chair in the great hall. I do hope that was the best place for it.
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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
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All the small, simple, conscious acts of living a sudden defense against the dying we do every day.
Libba Bray