Rebekah

“The woman. I did carry a few of her images in my head, for example the recurrent image of the forest, the word 'coniferous,' the word 'boreal.' The word 'footpath.' All together, they constituted something like a mantra, or the sentimental beads of a rosary. When nothing else seemed to make sense, sense was hidden in irrefutable words: a sliver or the space for a sliver.”
― Cristina Rivera Garza, The Taiga Syndrome

“We hope for a harvest, we pray for rain, but nothing is certain. We say that the harvest will only be abundant if the crops are shared, that the rains will not come unless water is conserved and shared and respected. We believe we can continue to live and thrive only if we care for one another. This is the age of the Reaper, when we inherit five thousand years of postponed results, the fruits of our callousness toward the earth and toward other human beings. But at last we have come to understand that we are part of the earth, part of the air, the fire, and the water, as we are part of one another.”
― Starhawk, The Fifth Sacred Thing

“To my mind, joy is a constitutive part of the emotional rhetoric and comportment of those against whom the present swells at an annihilating pace. With joy, we breach the haze of suffering that denies us creativity and literature. Joy is art is an ethics of resistance.”
― Billy-Ray Belcourt, A History of My Brief Body

“Failures weigh people down. Writing reports of all the cases I was unable to solve, however, had helped me to tell stories, or at least get them down on paper, as they say. Whether I was obeying or taming language is not important.... Sometimes failures push us to open the door of a run-down old house, to clean the dust off the unused furniture and find a drawer where an old typewriter hides. Failures force us to reflect, and reflection, with any luck, may lead us to a coastal city and a pile of blank pages.”
― Cristina Rivera Garza, The Taiga Syndrome