The rules of magic, my dear, are best not discusses. For once we understand the illusion, we no longer believe it.
Libba BrayEvie was so nervous that she downed her cocktail in two stiff swigs, then refilled her glass. Henry arched an eyebrow. “A pro, I see.” “What else is there to do in Ohio?
Libba BrayEvie didn’t mind yelling, but she hated feeling judged. It got under her skin and made her feel small and ugly and unfixable.
Libba BrayGod doesn't like lesbians," Grandma Huberman hised, throwing the magazine in the trash. Jennifer knew what lesbian meant, and she knew she probably was one. But she couldn't understand why God would hold that against her or against Monica Mathers, who'd never started a war or killed anybody, and whose deadeye three-pointers were straight-up amazing. After all, hadn't God made both of them? But people were like that, she'd noticed. They'd invoke Godly privilege at the weirdest of times and for the most stupid reasons.
Libba Bray