He deserves to have his head on a spike for all to see. Waring: If you are insufferable, do not walk here. We shall eat you down to the marrow.
Libba BrayForgiveness. The frail beauty of the world takes root in me as I make my way back through the woods, past the caves and the ravine, where the earth has accepted the flesh of the deer, leaving nothing but a bone or two, peeking above Kartik's makeshift grave, to prove that any of this ever happened. Soon, they'll be gone too.
But forgiveness...I'll hold on to that fragile slice of hope and keep it close remembering that 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's an awful lot of gray to work with. No one can live in the light all the time.
Tag: forgiveness
Why do I feel this response makes Kartik much like governesses who tell their charges grisly fairy tales before bed and then expect them to sleep peacefully through the night?
Libba BrayI don't know how to accomplish such a look. I find myself with a new fear: that I shall never, ever be this lovely.
Libba BrayI can't help feeling humiliated for Ithal. He stands at the wall and watches us go, and when we reach the turnoff for the school, he's still there with the mangled flower in his hands, far behind us a small, dying star fading out of our constellation.
Libba BrayMiss Moore speaks slowly, deliberately. "I know because I read." She pulls back and stands, hands on hips, offering us a challenge. "May I suggest that you all read? And often. Believe me, it's nice to have something to talk about other than the weather and the Queen's health. Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
Libba BrayYou have been deceived. Spiritualism is no more a science than thievery. For that's all this is--very skilled dodgers stealing money from the bereaved for a little glint of hope. People see what they want to see when they need to.
Libba BrayTag: spritualism-mediums-seers
She's right. I don't trust her farther than I can run full-steam in a corset, but she's right. The truth is hard and unfair, but there it is.
Libba BrayI'm whining. It's unattractive, but I find I'm powerless to stop
Libba BrayGod save me from a woman's tears, for I've no strength against them.
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