1
I'm me, " she whispered. "Me"Nel didn't know quite what she meant, but on the other hand she knew exactly what she meant." I'm me. I'm not their daughter. I'm not Nel. I'm me. Me."Every time she said the word me there was a gathering in her like power, like joy, like fear. Back in bed with her discovery, she stared out the window at the dark leaves of the horse chestnut." Me, " she murmured. And then, sinking deeper into the quilts, "I want.. I want to be.. wonderful. Oh, Jesus, make me wonderful.Toni Morrison
2
Like any artist without an art form, she became dangerous.Toni Morrison
3
She looked around for a place to be. A small place. The closet? .. It was both small and bright, and she wanted to be in a very small, very bright place. Small enough to contain her grief. Bright enough to throw into relief the dark things that cluttered her. Once inside, she sank to the tile floor next to the toilet. On her knees, her hand on the cold rim of the bathtub, she waited for something to happen…inside.Toni Morrison
4
It is sheer good fortune to miss somebody long before they leave you.Toni Morrison
5
In a way, her strangeness, her naivete, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of 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 from, she became dangerous.Toni Morrison
6
It had been the longest time since she had had a rib-scraping laugh. She had forgotten how deep and down it could be. So different from the miscellaneous giggles and smiles she had learned to be content with these past few years.Toni Morrison