You revel in the smoke that the words send up.
Toni MorrisonWhose house is this? Whose night keeps out the light In here? Say, who owns this house? It’s not mine. I dreamed another, sweeter, brighter With a view of lakes crossed in painted boats; Of fields wide as arms open for me. This house is strange. Its shadows lie. Say, tell me, why does its lock fit my key?
Toni MorrisonThe best art is political and you ought to be able to make it unquestionably political and irrevocably beautiful at the same time.
Toni MorrisonAlong with romantic love, she was introduced to another–physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion. In equating physical beauty with virtue, she stripped her mind, bound it, and collected self-contempt by the heap. She forgot lust and simple caring for. She regarded love as possessive mating, and romance as the goal of the spirit. It would be for her a well-spring from which she would draw the most destructive emotions, deceiving the lover, and seeking to imprison the beloved, curtailing freedom in every way.
Toni MorrisonTags: destructive-emotions
God take what He would," she said. And He did, and He did, and He did and then gave her Halle who gave her freedom when it didn't mean a thing.
Toni MorrisonTags: freedom children god loss common
L'amore non è mai migliore di chi ama. I malvagi amano con malvagità, i violenti con violenza, i deboli con debolezza e gli stupidi in modo stupido, ma l'amore di un uomo libero non è mai sicuro. on c'è dono per la persona amata. Solo chi ama possiede il suo dono d'amore. Chi è amato viene reciso, neutralizzato, congelato nello sguardo dell'occhio interiore di chi ama.
Toni MorrisonTags: love
The freezing in hell that comes before the everlasting fire where sinners bubble and singe forever.
Toni MorrisonMisner walked away from the pulpit, to the rear wall of the church. There he stretched, reaching up until he was able to unhook the cross that hung there. He carried it then, past the empty choir stall, past the organ where Kate sat, the chair where Pulliam was, on to the podium and held it before him for all to see - if only they would. . . . Without this sign, the believer's life was confined to praising God and taking the hits. The praise was credit; the hits were interest due on a debt that could never be paid. . . . But with it, in the religion in which this sign was paramount and foundational, well, life was a whole other matter.
Toni MorrisonTags: christianity
He relished never knowing what lay in his path, who might approach with what intention.
Toni MorrisonAnd 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 ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life.
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