Quotes from Libba Bray

What if evil doesn't really exist? What if evil is something dreamed up by man, and there is nothing to struggle against except out own limitations? The constant battle between our will, our desires, and our choices?

I know because I read...Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.

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.

There is an ancient tribal proverb I once heard in India. It says that before we can see properly we must first shed our tears to clear the way.

But we can't go back. We can only go forward.

Why do girls always feel like they have to apologize for giving an opinion or taking up space in the world? Have you ever noticed that?" Nicole asked. "You go on websites and some girl leaves a post and if it's longer than three sentences or she's expressing her thoughts about some topic, she usually ends with, 'Sorry for the rant' or 'That may be dumb, but that's what I think.

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.

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.

Power changes everything till it is difficult to say who are the heroes and who the villains.

We're all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess that's 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.

How do you invent a religion?" Evie asked. Will looked over the top of his spectacles. "You say, 'God told me the following,' and then wait for people to sign up.

I run after her, not really giving chase. I'm running because I can, because I must. Because I want to see how far I can go before I have to stop.

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.

In every end, there is also a beginning.

These are hard times. The world hurts. We live in fear and forget to walk with hope. But hope has not forgotten you. So ask it to dinner. It's probably hungry and would appreciate the invitation.

I do not want to pass the time. I want to grab hold of it and leave my mark upon the world.

To those who will see, the world waits.

We sit and listen and are enthralled anew, for good stories, it seems, never lose their magic.

Time has no meaning. I feel as if I have been left in the desert to die and am eagerly awaiting the vultures to begin their work and end my misery.

Do not be tempted by English roses. Their beauty fades, but their thorns are forever.

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?

So much of the literature we had to read for high school English class was filled with victimized, tragic, symbolic women who spurred the plot forward with their inevitable shunning/death/shunning-followed-by-pregnancy-followed-by-death timelines.

I'm a techno moron. I need help just to plug in my video camera.

My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Yes, I am one of those dreaded P.K.s - Preachers Kids. Be afraid.