Libba Bray
Libba Bray
Libba Brayis an American writer of young adult novels including the Gemma Doyle Trilogy, Going Bovine, and The Diviners...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth11 March 1964
CityMontgomery, AL
CountryUnited States of America
forever mind form
Travel opens your mind as few other things do. It is its own form of hypnotism, and I am forever under its spell
choices safe
There are no safe choices. Only other choices.
queens nice believe
May I suggest that you all read? And often. Believe me, it's nice to have something to talk about other than the weather and the Queen's health. Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
passion contentment wish
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.
honesty eye light
We create the illusions we need to go on. And one day, when they no longer dazzle or comfort, we tear them down, brick by glittering brick, until we are left with nothing but the bright light of honesty. The light is liberating. Necessary. Terrifying. We stand naked and emptied before it. And when it is too much for our eyes to take, we build a new illusion to shield us from its relentless truth.
heart understanding mind
But if we are to remain a great empire, we must have a greater understanding of the hearts and minds of others.
reset-button buttons needs
Jeez, someone needs to push the reset button on this planet.
dark play light
Because you don't notice the light without a bit of shadow. Everything has both dark and light. You have to play with it till you get it exactly right.
regret clouds trying
We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds.
missing affection enough
It is funny how you do not miss affection until it is given, but once it is, it can never be enough; you would drown in it if possible.
ethics vulture fewer
Writers are also sort of like vultures, but with fewer ethics.
good-night dream waiting
When I dream, I dream of him. For several nights now he’s come to me, waving from a distant shore as if he’s been waiting patiently for me to arrive. He doesn’t utter a word, but his smile says everything: I’ve missed you.
grief home waiting
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.
want
They see her differently now, as somebody. And isn't that what everyone wants? To be seen?