Because you can't keep up the illusion forever," I say. "No one h... by Libba Bray

Because you can't keep up the illusion forever," I say. "No one has that much magic.

Libba Bray

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Categorized in : Forever Magic Illusion

But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at... by Libba Bray

But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all?

I'm a librarian, not an oracle. by Libba Bray

I'm a librarian, not an oracle.

librarian oracles

There is a dualism inherent in democracy--opposing forces pushing against each other, always. Culture clashes. Different belief systems. All coming together to create this country. But this balance takes a great deal of energy.

democracy together country

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.

arms mouths beautiful

People will believe anything if it means they can go on with their lives and not have to think too hard about it.

mean believe thinking

It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for he... by Libba Bray

It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.

freshness husband purity

On the Bowery, in the ornate carcass of a formerly grand vaudeville theater, a dance marathon limps along. The contestants, young girls and their fellas, hold one another up, determined to make their mark, to bite back at the dreams sold to them in newspaper advertisements and on the radio. They have sores on their feet but stars in their eyes.

girl stars dream

Careful there, Poet. I might start to believe you. by Libba Bray

Careful there, Poet. I might start to believe you.

poet might believe

She is the elephant’s eyebrows,” Evie whispered appreciatively. “Those jewels! How her neck must ache.” “That’s why Bayer makes aspirin,” Mabel whispered back, and Evie smiled, knowing that even a socialist wasn’t immune to the dazzle of a movie star.

stars knowing jewels

Naughty John, Naughty John, does his work with his apron on. Cuts your throat and takes your bones, sells 'em off for a coupla stones.

naughty cutting doe

In them, she saw the sham of her life laid out like a book, the foolish belief that she, that anyone, could escape the consequences of this world, could flee from death. That was the deceit. The true serpent in the garden.

deceit garden book

He told me that once, in the war, he’d come upon a German soldier in the grass with his insides falling out; he was just lying there in agony. The soldier had looked up at Sergeant Leonard, and even though they didn’t speak the same language, they understood each other with just a look. The German lying on the ground; the American standing over him. He put a bullet in the soldier’s head. He didn’t do it with anger, as an enemy, but as a fellow man, one soldier helping another.

The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, takin... by Libba Bray

The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.

shadow doors rooms

She was tired of being told how it was by this generation, who’d botched things so badly. They’d sold their children a pack of lies: God and country. Love your parents. All is fair. And then they’d sent those boys, her brother, off to fight a great monster of a war that maimed and killed and destroyed whatever was inside them. Still they lied, expecting her to mouth the words and play along. Well, she wouldn’t. She knew now that the world was a long way from fair. She knew the monsters were real.

brother life country

He wanted to hit something or someone. He wanted to burn up the whole world, heal it, and burn it down again.

heal wanted world

They kept the lie going, and the people loved it. by Libba Bray

They kept the lie going, and the people loved it.

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.

numbers giving book

There is nothing more terrifying than the absoluteness of one who... by Libba Bray

There is nothing more terrifying than the absoluteness of one who believes he's right.

There's no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I'm not falling into any vision. It's his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more.

kissing light fall

It's only his thumb brushing slowly across the lower edge of my lip, but it's as if time slows and the sweep of that thumb below my mouth takes forever. It is no spell that I know of, but it holds such magic, I can scarcely breath. He pulls his hand away fast, aware of what he's done. But his touch lingers.

magic forever hands