Two girls who grow up to become women. Two friends who become something worse than enemies. In this brilliantly imagined novel, Toni Morrison tells the story of Nel Wright and Sula Peace, who meet as children in the small town of Medallion, Ohio. Their devotion is fierce enough to withstand... read more
“An artist without an art form is a dangerous being.”
Because each had discovered years before that they were neither white nor male, and that all freedom and triumph was forbidden to them, they had set about creating something else to be.Highlighted by 76 Kindle customers
“I don’t want to make somebody else. I want to make myself.”Highlighted by 70 Kindle customers
The first experience taught her there was no other that you could count on; the second that there was no self to count on either. She had no center, no speck around which to grow.Highlighted by 65 Kindle customers
“Yes. But my lonely is mine. Now your lonely is somebody else’s. Made by somebody else and handed to you. Ain’t that something? A secondhand lonely.”Highlighted by 65 Kindle customers
Any enthusiasms that little Nel showed were calmed by the mother until she drove her daughter’s imagination underground.Highlighted by 56 Kindle customers
So he had said “always,” so she would not have to be afraid of the change—the falling away of skin, the drip and slide of blood, and the exposure of bone underneath. He had said “always” to convince her, assure her, of permanency.Highlighted by 56 Kindle customers
She had been looking all along for a friend, and it took her a while to discover that a lover was not a comrade and could never be—for a woman.Highlighted by 54 Kindle customers
Eva said yes, but inside she disagreed and remained convinced that Sula had watched Hannah burn not because she was paralyzed, but because she was interested.Highlighted by 52 Kindle customers
In a way, her strangeness, her naïveté, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of an idle imagination. Had she paints, or clay, or knew the discipline of the dance, or strings; had she anything to engage her tremendous curiosity and her gift for metaphor, she might have exchanged the restlessness and preoccupation with whim for an activity that provided her with all she yearned for. And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous.Highlighted by 50 Kindle customers
They insisted that all unions between white men and black women be rape; for a black woman to be willing was literally unthinkable. In that way, they regarded integration with precisely the same venom that white people did.Highlighted by 45 Kindle customers
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