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A Little Life
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by Hanya Yanagihara (Goodreads Author)
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progress:  Apr 26, 2018 12:36PM

 
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John Yau
“You should understand that I did not want you to read a painting. I/ wanted you to bathe in it before words domesticated the experience,/ and you turned to such stand-bys as "illumination" and "transcendent"/ to describe what happened to you. Painting should not be sentenced to/ sentences.”
John Yau, Further Adventures in Monochrome

Jeffrey Eugenides
“Everyone struggles against despair, but it always wins in the end. It has to. It's the thing that lets us say goodbye.”
Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex

“Traveling through America can take your breath away, but break your heart.”
Renee Tajima-Peña

Frantz Fanon
“Superiority? Inferiority?
Why not simply try to touch the other, feel the other, discover each other?”
Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks

Toni Morrison
“In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. and all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver--love it, love it and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet to draw free air. More than your life-holding womb and your life-giving private parts, hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize.”
Toni Morrison, Beloved

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