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 BrayRead
We're all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess that's what I love about books--they are thin strands of humanity that tether us to one another for a small bit of time, that make us feel less alone or even more comfortable with our aloneness, if need be.
Interpretation
What this quote means
Our connections with others are based on shared experiences and stories, and books can help us understand and relate to each other.
In this quote, Libba Bray expresses the idea that we are all interconnected through the stories we tell and share, which forms bonds between people. Books serve as a powerful medium to explore the human experience, allowing us to feel a sense of belonging, understanding our individual solitude, and fostering empathy within our shared humanity.
Themes
StoriesBooksConnectionHumanitySolitude
In practice
Example use cases
Using this quote in a book club to highlight the importance of stories in communal experiences.
More from Libba Bray
All quotes →In school, they would tell you that life wouldn’t come to you; you had to go out and make it your own. But when it came to love, the message for girls seemed to be this: Don’t. Don’t go after what you want. Wait. Wait to be chosen, as if only in the eye of another could one truly find value. The message was confusing and infuriating. It was a shell game with no actual pea under the rapidly moving cups.
Libba BrayRead
I am no longer content to be the scared, obedient schoolgirl. Who are you, a stranger, to tell me what I can and cannot do?
Libba BrayRead
We all walk in a land of dreams. For what are we but atoms and hope, a handful of stardust and sinew? We are weary travelers trying to find our way home on a road that never ends. Am I a part of your dream? or are you but a part of mine?
Libba BrayRead
In a world beyond this one, that river goes on singing sweetly, enchanting us with what we want to hear, shaping what we need to see in order to keep going. In those waters, all disappointments are forgotten, our mistakes forgiven. Gazing into them, we see a strong father. A loving mother. Warm rooms where we are sheltered, adored, wanted. And the uncertainty of our futures is nothing more than the fog of breath on a windowpane.
Libba BrayRead
How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much. As cages go, it is a gilded one, but I shall not live well in it or any cage for that matter.
Libba BrayRead
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