More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Whatever dread, fright, or bump appeared in my path, I wanted nothing more than to drop in my tracks and hide. If you must err, do so on the side of audacity. That was the little slogan I’d devised for myself.
When I was being forgiving, I said that my mother was simply exhausted. I suspected, though, she was simply mean.
Give Hetty back. As if she was mine after all. As if owning people was as natural as breathing. For all my resistance about slavery, I breathed that foul air, too.
