Dead bodies are such trouble,โ Evie said with a little sigh, and Mabel had to turn her head away so as not to laugh.
Libba BrayA gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.
Libba BrayHarold Brodie is a louse and a lothario who cheats at cards and has a different girl in his rumble seat every week. That coupe of his is pos-i-tute-ly a petting palace. And heโs a terrible kisser to boot.โ Evieโs parents stared in stunned silence. โOr so Iโve heard.
Libba BrayI have done what they expected of me. I have curtsied for my Queen and made my debut. This is what I have anticipated eagerly for years. So why do I feel so unsatisfied? Everyone is merry. They haven't a care in the world. And perhaps that is it. How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much.
Libba Bray