Libba Bray Quotes - Page 5

You must remember, my dear lady, the most important rule of any successful illusion: First, the people must want to believe in it.

I wouldn’t expect you to get it, Daisy. You don’t look at anything besides Photoplay—and even then somebody’s gotta explain the pictures to you.” Daisy’s mouth hung open in outrage. “Well, I never!” “Yeah, that’s what you tell all your fellas, but the rest of us aren’t buying it. Go away, now, Daisy. Shoo, little fly!

I feel like I swallowed a Magritte. Like on the inside, I'm made of clouds and floating eyes, green apples, and slowly rising men in bowler hats.

My personal motto is: WWWWD?: What Would Wonder Woman Do?

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

It occurs to me that cricket is not the true sport in London - gossip is.

Life don’t come to you, Memphis. You gotta take it. We have to take it. Because ain’t nobody handing it to us.

Any librarian or scholar will tell you: Close is not the same as accurate.

In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. We’re each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. We’ve got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there is a lot of grey to work with. No one can live in the light all the time.

A guy's gotta live, you know, gotta make his way and find his meaning in life and love, and to do that he needs coffee, he needs coffee and coffee and coffee.

Books are, at their heart, dangerous. Yes, dangerous. Because they challenge us: our prejudices, our blind spots. They open us to new ideas, new ways of seeing. They make us hurt in all the right ways. They can push down the barricades of ‘them’ & widen the circle of ‘us.

People think boundaries and borders build nations. Nonsense-words do. Beliefs, declarations, constitutions-words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History

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

Really, being a librarian is a much more dangerous job than you realize.

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.

I've never done acid, finding it hard to go willingly to a place that could be frightening, hellish, and totally beyond my control. A place much like high school.

Please do not strain yourself, Miss Doyle. I won't have my girls going cross-eyed in the name of art.

For once, Evie didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t really thought of her uncle as very human. He was more like a textbook who occasionally remembered to put on a tie. But it was clear that he was, indeed, human, with a deep wound named Rotke.

Evie replied with an eye-roll. “Do you think you can manage to not steal anything while I’m gone?” “The only thing I’m trying to steal is your heart, doll.” Sam smirked. “You’re not that talented a thief, Sam Lloyd.

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.

Perhaps this is how girls fall -- not in some crime of enchantment at the hands of a wicked ne'er-do-well, a grand before and after in which they are innocent victims who have no say in the matter. Perhaps they simply are kissed and want to kiss back. Perhaps they even kiss first. And why should they not?

Why should we girls not have the same privileges as men? Why do we police ourselves so stringently- whittling each other down with cutting remarks or holding ourselves back from greatness with a harness woven of fear and shame and longing? If we do not deem ourselves worthy first, how shall we ever ask for more?

No one can live in the light all the time.

We are English, and I expect you to behave as such. No more crying.

There’s a moment of profound sadness that can be dispelled only by summoning my anger.