Rest easy and go with the faith you lived with
Walter MosleyThat’s how Ptolemy imagined the disposition of his memories, his thoughts: they were still his, still in the range of his thinking, but they were, many and most of them, locked on the other side a closed door that he’s lost the key for. So his memory became like secrets held away from his own mind. But these secrets were noisy things; they babbled and muttered behind the door, and so if he listened closely he might catch a snatch of something he once knew well.
Walter MosleyMots clés life memories forgetting thoughts
You know, one of the interesting things you find about writing fiction is that any fiction you write has to be political. Otherwise, it goes into the realm of fantasy. So like, if you write about a woman in America in 1910, if you don’t write that she can’t really control her property, that she can’t—doesn’t have any say over her children, that she can’t vote—if you don’t put that in it, then it’s a fantasy. Like, well, how is her life informed? That’s true about everybody. If you write about black people, you write about white men, I mean, it has to be political. A lot of people don’t realize that, it seems.
Walter MosleyA man's bookcase will tell you everything you'll ever need to know about him.
Walter MosleyMots clés reading character bookshelves general preferences bookcases
They want to hold on to you and your people. They have isolated the ones who might grow powerful and overthrow their debauched reign.
Walter MosleyYou have made Commerce a god that weighs on humanity like a twenty-four-pound boil on a man's back (117-118)
Walter MosleyMots clés gift-of-fire
But at night we began dreaming of Man's perfect world without humanity (57)
Walter MosleyMots clés on-the-head-of-a-pin
Your people have lost the vision and vitality of your ancestors (73).
Walter MosleyMots clés on-the-head-of-a-pin
Love, as the poet says, is like the spring. It grows on you and seduces you slowly and gently, but it holds tight like the roots of a tree. You don't know until you're ready to go that you can't move, that you would have to mutilate yourself in order to be free. That's the feeling. It doesn't last, at least it doesn't have to. But it holds on like a steel claw in your chest. Even if the tree dies, the roots cling to you. I've seen men and women give up everything for love that once was.
Walter Mosley...I think it's some kind of meeting of energies that causes what we see, and that part of those energies emanate from our lifeforces, our minds.
Walter MosleyMots clés on-the-head-of-a-pin
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