In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. Weโre each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. Weโve 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.
Libba BrayMeraa mitra yahaan aaiye," he murmurs. I understand only a little Hindi, enough to know what he has said: Come here, my friend. I've never known a braver girl," he says.
Libba BrayWow, you're awesome and The universe loves a winner, so the universe must really love you!
Libba BrayIโm from the health department. Youโve heard of Typhoid Mary? This fellaโs got enough typhoid to start his own colony.
Libba BrayOn 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.
Libba Bray