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
kissing destiny roots
He smiles sadly. "Now I know my destiny." "What is it?" "This." He draws me in to him in a kiss. His lips are warm. He pulls me tighter in his embrace. The roots sigh and release their hold on my waist and the wound in my side is healed. "Kartik," I cry, kissing his cheeks. "It's let me go." "That's good," he says. He makes a small cry. His back arches, and every muscle in his body tightens.
girl moving school
In school, they would tell you that life wouldn’t come to you; you had to go out and make it your own. But when it came to love, the message for girls seemed to be this: Don’t. Don’t go after what you want. Wait. Wait to be chosen, as if only in the eye of another could one truly find value. The message was confusing and infuriating. It was a shell game with no actual pea under the rapidly moving cups.
powerful might opiates
Might. Is there any opiate more powerful than that word?
pain believe ignorance
And just as I begin to believe that all is well, there is some subtle change in the light. The room takes its true shape. I fight to go back to that blissful ignorance, but it is too late. The dull pain of truth weights my soul, pulling it under. I am left hopelessly awake.
perfect world enough
You couldn't be perfect enough to keep the world from betraying you.
notebook ideas heaven
Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.
doors shadow rooms
The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.
lines shifting doe
The line between faith and fanaticism is a constantly shifting one,” Dr. Poblocki said. “When does belief become justification? When does right become rationale and crusade become crime?
not-interested polite being-polite
I’m not interested in being polite. It’s false.
short-life easier permission
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.
book numbers giving
I thought research would be more glamorous, somehow. I'd give the librarian a secret code word and he'd give me the one book I needed and whisper the necessary page numbers. Like a speakeasy. With books.
long challenges facts
You have a steady fella?” Sam asked after a bit. “No fella can hold me for long.” Sam gave her a sideways glance. “That a challenge?” “No. A statement of fact.
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.
country lying thinking
There is no greater power on this earth than story.” Will paced the length of the room. “People think boundaries and borders build nations. Nonsense—words do. Beliefs, declarations, constitutions—words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History.” Will grabbed the sheaf of newspaper clippings he kept in a stack on his desk. “This, and these”—he gestured to the library’s teeming shelves—“they’re a testament to the country’s rich supernatural history.