And fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive; we were not free, merely licensed; we were not compassionate, we were polite; not good, but well behaved. We courted death in order to call...
It hit her like a sledgehammer, and it was then that she knew what to feel. A liquid trail of hate flooded her chest. Knowing that she would hate him long and well filled her with pleasant anticipatio...
We are traditionally rather proud of ourselves for having slipped creative work in there between the domestic chores and obligations. I'm not sure we deserve such big A-pluses for all that.
I think some aspects of writing can be taught. Obviously, you can't teach vision or talent. But you can help with comfort.
The body is ready to have babies. Nature wants it done then, when the body can handle it, not after 40, when the income can handle it.
She is a friend of mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order. It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind.
If they put an iron circle around your neck I will bite it away
You don't have to love me but you damn well have to respect me.
You are my shaper and my world as well. It is done. No need to choose.
They encouraged you to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely it was, they studied your scars and tribulations...
Listen, baby, people do funny things. Specially us. The cards are stacked against us and just trying to stay in the game, stay alive and in the game, makes us do funny things. Things we can't help. Th...
Lay my head on the railroad line. Train come along; pacify my mind.
Kneeling in the keeping room where she usually went to talk-think it was clear why Baby Suggs was so starved for color. There was’t any except for two orange squares in a quilt that made the absence s...
He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. ‘You your best thing, Sethe. You are.’ His holding fingers are holding hers.‘Me? Me?
Every sentence, every word, was new to them and they listened to what he said like bright-eyed ravens, trembling in their eagerness to catch & interpret every sound in the universe.
Clever, but schoolteacher beat him anyway to show him that definitions belonged to the definers - not the defined.
But maybe a man was nothing but a man, which is what Baby Suggs always said. They encouraged you to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely that was, they stud...
Being good to somebody is just like being mean to somebody. Risky. You don't get nothing for it.
At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. No record of it needs to be kept and you don't need someone to share it...
Anger is better. There is a sense of being in anger. A reality and presence. An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging.