Libba Bray (born Martha Elizabeth Bray; March 11, 1964) is an American writer of young adult novels including the Gemma Doyle Trilogy, Going Bovine, and The Diviners.
I've had so many bikini waxes, I cry every time I see a Popsicle stick.
The sun has blessed you," Sarita used to say. "Look how he has left his kisses on your face for all to see and be jealous. " "The sun loves you more," I said, rubbing my hands over her dry arms, the color of an aged wine gourd, and she laughed. But this is not India and we are not prized for our freckles here. The sun is not allowed to show his love.
There are always rebels and radicals, I suppose,' McCleethy allows. 'Those who live on the fringes of society. But what do they contribute to the society itself? They reap its rewards without experiencing its costs. No. I submit that loyal, hardworking citizens who push aside their own selfish desires for the good of the whole are the backbone of the world. What if we all decided to run off and live freely without thought or care for society's rules? Our civilization would crumble. There is a joy in duty and a security in knowing one's place. . . It is the only way.
Because it is morning, it is morning, and there is so much to see.
I have done what they expected of me. I have curtsied for my Queen and made my debut. This is what I have anticipated eagerly for years. So why do I feel so unsatisfied? Everyone is merry. They haven't a care in the world. And perhaps that is it. How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much.
How I'd love to get away from here and be someone else for a while in a place where no one knows or expects certain things from me.
Power changes everything till it is difficult to say who are the heroes and who the villains.
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.
You set fire to my house, killed my family, and ate my dog. But steal my boyfriend? That's a step too far.
But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?
No? Part girl, part wolf? Do they lick their butter knives?
. . . I do have to wonder what sort of childhood the Grimm brothers endured. They are not a merry bunch of storytellers, what with their children roasted by witches, maidens poisoned by old crones, and whatnot.
Agent Jones switched to the big screen and a grainy video of MoMo sitting at his enormous desk, a swivel-hipped Elvis clock ticking behind his bewigged head. 'Death to the capitalist pigs! Death to your cinnamon bun-smelling malls! Death to your power walking and automatic car windows and I'm With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic of ChaCha will never bend to your side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that corruption! MoMo B. ChaCha defies you and all you stand for, and one day, you will crumble into the sea and we will pick up the pieces and make them into sand art.
It was a kiss small in its ministrations but epic in its feeling.
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.
The night's chilly breath tickles up my neck and finds my ear, whispering secrets only the wind knows.
She was chosen,' Mae insists. No, you're wrong,' I say. 'She was only a girl. '. . . She was gone for some time. You were the only force that kept her from turning completely. That's magic. Perhaps the most powerful I've seen. ' -In response to Felicity's love for Pippa keeping her from turning into a Winterland creature.
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.
What you want can be yours. But you must first know what it is you want.
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.