Set in rural Ohio several years after the Civil War, this profoundly affecting chronicle of slavery and its aftermath is Toni Morrison's greatest novel, a dazzling achievement, and the most spellbinding reading experience of the decade. "A brutally powerful, mesmerizing story . . . read it and... read more
“The future was a matter of keeping the past at bay.”
“This here Sethe talked about safety with a handsaw.”Paul D
“Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”
“It never looked as terrible as it was and it made her wonder if hell was a pretty place too.”
“Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you’d have a little love left over for the next one.”Paul D
“to get to a place where you could love anything you chose—not to need permission for desire—well now, that was freedom.”
“schoolteacher beat him anyway to show him that definitions belonged to the definers—not the defined.”
““It’s gonna hurt, now,” said Amy. “Anything dead coming back to life hurts.””
“She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine. That if they could not see it, they would not have it.”
“It’s gonna hurt, now,” said Amy. “Anything dead coming back to life hurts.”Highlighted by 178 Kindle customers
Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another.Highlighted by 176 Kindle customers
It never looked as terrible as it was and it made her wonder if hell was a pretty place too.Highlighted by 173 Kindle customers
She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine. That if they could not see it, they would not have it.Highlighted by 171 Kindle customers
to get to a place where you could love anything you chose—not to need permission for desire—well now, that was freedom.Highlighted by 148 Kindle customers
Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you’d have a little love left over for the next one.Highlighted by 146 Kindle customers
“She is a friend of my 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.”Highlighted by 130 Kindle customers
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 studied your scars and tribulations, after which they did what he had done: ran her children out and tore up the house.Highlighted by 129 Kindle customers
Clever, but schoolteacher beat him anyway to show him that definitions belonged to the definers—not the defined.Highlighted by 128 Kindle customers
That anybody white could take your whole self for anything that came to mind. Not just work, kill, or maim you, but dirty you. Dirty you so bad you couldn’t like yourself anymore. Dirty you so bad you forgot who you were and couldn’t think it up. And though she and others lived through and got over it, she could never let it happen to her own. The best thing she was, was her children. Whites might dirty her all right, but not her best thing, her beautiful, magical best thing—the part of her that was clean.Highlighted by 126 Kindle customers
Three numbered parts, each with multiple unlabelled chapter segments
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