Quote

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.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Girl
Theater
Sold
Contestants
Another
Dreams
Grand
Fellas
Dream
Along
Newspapers
Formerly
Limps
Young
Hold
Determined
Advertisements
Bowery
Back
Feet
Radio
Bite
Ornate
Make
Eyes
Mark
Marathon
Sores
Stars
Girls
Newspaper
Carcass
Eye
Dance
Bites
Vaudeville

More quotes by Libba Bray

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What happens if your choice is misguided, You must try to correct it But what if it’s too late? What if you can’t? Then you must find a way to live with it.
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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.
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Or perhaps it is some combination of spirit and desire, love and hope, some alchemy that we each possess and can put to use, if we first know where to look without flinching.
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There's a lot about discovering who you are and how difficult that is. And it never stops.
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My personal motto is: WWWWD?: What Would Wonder Woman Do?
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No, I call. Come back. I'm here, he says. But I can't see. It's too bright. You can't hold back the light, Gemma. I'm here. Trust me.
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Prepared to fly, even if she has to loose her legs to do it
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And for a moment, I understand that I have friends on this lonely path that sometimes your place is not something you find, but something you have when you need it.
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The hand you hold the longest is your own.
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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.
Libba Bray
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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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There are no safe choices. Only other choices.
Libba Bray
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I had thought Felicity dangerous a moment ago, when she felt powerful. I was wrong. Wounded and powerless, she is more dangerous than I could imagine.
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Clothing left on the bed unfolded. Books stained with coffee spots. Tabs not paid until the last possible second. Boys kissed and then forgotten in a week’s time.
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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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No one can live in the light all the time.
Libba Bray
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But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?
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Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.
Libba Bray
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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.
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I want to ask him if it’s possible that a girl can be born unlovable, or does she just become that way?
Libba Bray