Quotes by Libba Bray

Were all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess thats 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.

People always fear what they dont understand, Evangeline. History proves that.

One day, as Sarita tended to the wash, Gemma played in the garden. She was a knight, you see, with a sword fashioned out of wood. Most formidable, she was, though I didnt quite know how formidable. As I sat in my study, I heard screaming from outside. I ran to see what the commotion was. Sarita called to me, wide-eyed with fear, Oh, Mr. Doyle, look- over there! The tiger had entered the garden and was making his way toward where our Gemma frolicked with her wooden sword. Beside me, our house servant, Raj, drew his blade so stealthily it seemed to simply appear in his hand by magic. But Sarita stayed his hand. If you run for him with your life, you will provoke the tiger, she advised. We must wait....I must tell you that it was the longest moment of my life. No one dared move. No one dared draw a breath. And all the while, Gemma played on, taking no notice until the great cat was upon her. She stood and faced him. They stared at one another as if each wondered what to make of the other, as if they sensed a kindred spirit. At last, Gemma placed her sword upon the ground. Dear tiger, she said. You may pass if you are peaceful. The tiger looked at the sword and back at Gemma, and without a sound, it passed on, dissappearing into the jungle....The tiger had gone. He did not come around a gain. But I was a man possessed. The tiger had come too close, you see. I no longer felt safe. I hired the best tracker in Bombay. We hunted for days, tracking the tiger to the mountains there. We found him taking water from a small watering hole. He looked up but he did not charge. He took no notice of us at all but continued to drink. Sahib, let us go, the boy said. This tiger means you no harm. He was right, of course. But we had come all that way. The gun was in my hand. The tiger was before us. I took aim and shot it dead on the spot. I sold the tigers skin for a fortune to a man in Bombay, and he called me brave for it. But it was not courage that brought me to that; it was fear...But you, he says, smiling with a mix of sadness and pride, you faced the tiger and survived....The time has come for me to face my tiger, to look him in the eye and see which of us survives. - Mr. Doyle

Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know theyve fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they dont know when or how the change took place.

She dances a little jig. This would make one hell of a TV show, huh? Yeah. But no one would believe it. I should let it go. But its like the hole, like the door, and I have to know. Or at least, I have to ask. Hey, Dulcie, was any of that real? She finishes her dance and the wings come to rest. Whos to say whats real or not? Yeah, but--my barometer on reality, not so good since I started going crazy. Yeah, well, who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, arent we all just a little crazy?

War. Gorgon spits the word. That is what they call it to give the illusion of honor and law. It is chaos. Madness and blood and the hunger to win. It has always been thus and shall always be so.

Because Youre perfect just the way you are, is what your guidance counselor says. And shes an alcoholic.

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.

New Maxi-Pad Pets. Accessories for your period.Brought to you by The Corporation: In your homes andin your pants.

When she cant bring me to heal with scolding, she bends me to shape with guilt.

Really? And what curse befalls the Adams of the world?Ann opens her mouth and, presumably thinking of nothing to say, closes it again. It is Felicity who answers, eyes steely. They are weak to temptation. And we are their temptresses.

Sexuality is not meant to be this way - an honest, consensual expression in which a girl might take an active role when she feels good and ready and not one minute before. No. Sexual desire is meant to sell soap. And cars. And beer. And religion.

And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time.

But Gemma, you could change the world.That should take far more than my power, I say.True. But change neednt happen all at once. It can be small gestures.Moments. Do you understand? Hes looking at me differently now, though I cannot say how. I only know I need to look away...We pass by the pools, where the mud larks sift. And for only a few seconds, I let the magic loose again.Oi! By all the saints! a boy cries from the river.Gone off the dock? an old woman calls. The mud larks break into cackles.S not a rock! he shouts. He races out of the fog, cradling something in his palm. Curiosity gets the better of the others. They crowd about trying to see. In his palm is a smattering of rubies. Were rich mates! Its a hot bath and a full belly for every one of us!Kartik eyes me suspiciously. That was a strange stroke of good fortune.Yes it was.I dont suppose that was your doing.Im not sure I dont know what you mean, I say.And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time.

Our mouths and bodies speak for us in a new language as the trees shake loose a rain of petals that stick to our slickness like skins we will wear forever. And just like that, I am changed.

Please, Im a transgender former boy-bander. You think I dont know how to defend myself?

Brought to you by The Corporation: In your homes and in your pants.

I dont know why I feel so wounded with Kartiks obvious infatuation with Pippa. Theres no romance between us. Theres nothing that tethers us but this dark secret neither of us wants. Its not Kartiks longing that hurts. Its my own. Its knowing that Ill never have what she has--a beauty so powerful it brings things to you. I fear I will always have to chase things I want. Ill always have to wonder whether Im truly wanted or whether Ive just been settled for.

May I suggest that you all read? And often. Believe me, its nice to have something to talk about other than the weather and the Queens health. Your mind is not a cage. Its a garden. And it requires cultivating.

America had invented itself. It continued to invent itself as it went along. Sometimes its virtues made it the envy of the world. Sometimes it betrayed the very heart of its ideals. Sometimes the people dispensed with what was difficult or inconvenient to acknowledge. So the good people maintained the illusion of democracy and wrote another hymn to America. They sang loud enough to drown out dissent. They sang loud enough to overpower their own doubts. There were no plaques to commemorate mistakes. But the past didn’t forget. History was haunted by the ghosts of buried crimes, which required period exorcisms of truth. Actions had consequences.