It never looked as terrible as it was and it made her wonder if hell was a pretty place too. Fire and brimstone all right, but hidden in lacy groves.
Toni MorrisonNo matter what all your teeth and wet fingers anticipated, there was no accounting for the way that simple joy could shake you.
Toni MorrisonMots clés joy
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.
[...]
A man ain't nothing but a man,' said Baby Suggs. 'But a son? Well now, that's somebody.
Mots clés man
Was it hard? I hope she didn't die hard.'
Sethe shook her head. 'Soft as cream. Being alive was the hard part.
Mots clés death
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, 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.
Toni MorrisonMots clés love
Gimme hate, Lord,” he whimpered. “I’ll take hate any day. But don’t give me love. I can’t take no more love, Lord. I can’t carry it...It’s too heavy. Jesus, you know, you know all about it. Ain’t it heavy? Jesus? Ain’t love heavy?
Toni MorrisonDon't ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn't fall in love, I rose in it.
Toni MorrisonMots clés love
In a way, her strangeness, her naiveté, 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 an artist with no art form, she became dangerous.
Toni MorrisonSad as it was that she did not know where her children were buried or what they looked like if alive, fact was she knew more about them than she knew about herself, having never had the map to discover what she was like.
Could she sing? (Was it nice to hear when she did?) Was she pretty? Was she a good friend? Could she have been a loving mother? A faithful wife? Have I got a sister and does she favor me? If my mother knew me would she like me?
Well, it probably won't live. They say the way her mama beat her she lucky to be alive herself.
She be lucky if it don't live. Bound to be the ugliest thing walking.
Can't help but be. Ought to be a law: two ugly people doubling up like that to make more ugly. Be better off in the ground.
Well, I wouldn't worry none. It be a miracle if it live.
Mots clés toni-morrison the-bluest-eye teen-pregnancy
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