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
beautiful mouths arms
Jericho lay back down on his side, watching her breathe just an arm's length from him. She was not beautiful while she slept; her mouth hung open and she snored very lightly, and this, despite everything that had happened, made him smile.
beautiful girl thinking
Pippa's laugh is bitter, tinged with tears. 'Ha! Why do girls think being beautiful will solve every problem? Being beautiful just creates problems. It's a misery. I wish I were someone else.
beautiful unique grasshoppers
You are unique, and this is a beautiful, beautiful thing, grasshopper.
beautiful thinking hands
Why does everyone want to own me?" Pippa mumbles. She's got her head in her hands. "Why do they all want to control my life -- how I look, whom I see, what I do or don't do? Why can't they just let me alone?" "Because you're beautiful," Ann answers, watching the fire lick her palm. "People always think they can own beautiful things.
beautiful wife fortune
- So my own sister will not promote me? Speaking of which, weren't you supposed to find me a beautiful future wife with a small fortune? Have you had any success on that front? - Yes - I have warned them all.
beautiful heart warrior
When you peeled back the skin, you were dealing with bone and muscle, blood and nerve endings. It was all the same. She liked the beautiful logic of the circulatory system, the elegance of the neurological, and the fierce warrior spirit of the heart. The body had rules and it had quirks.
beauty beautiful mistake
But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?
beautiful horse scare
The face staring back at me isn't beautiful but she isn't something that would scare the horses, either.
dad dreaded
My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Yes, I am one of those dreaded P.K.s - Preacher's Kids. Be afraid.
speaking
I feel like I'm speaking with my therapist.
became fact forces life people secrets sector
(It was) the fact that he had to keep secrets -- and I became a secret-keeper, ... You can't really marginalize or ghettoize a whole sector of the population, because it forces people into a life of shame. That, of course, trickles down.
counted ghost girl invited love parties scare slumber smell surprise tale
I love to be scared. Not, 'Hey, I think I smell smoke...' scared, but creepy, paranoid, what's-that-out-there-in-the-dark, ghost story scared. It's no surprise that I was the girl who got invited to the slumber parties because I could be counted on to tell a tale to scare the bejesus out of you.
hit jonathan paul throw
When you live in Brooklyn, if you throw a rock, you'll hit a writer - Jonathan Safran Foer, Jonathan Lethem, Paul Auster.
catcher somebody
'The Catcher in the Rye.' When I was a teenager, that was my book; yes, somebody gets it, somebody gets adolescence.