She Would Be King Quotes

“Loneliness while in the presence of others is a most cruel kind.”
― Wayetu Moore, She Would Be King

“The girl with the biggest gift of us all. Life. If she was not a girl or if she was not a woman; if she was not a woman or if she was not a witch, she would be king.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“I am not better. I am not worse. I am changed. I am a different woman. I forgot myself. And I am sorry.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Alike spirits separated at great distances will always be bound to meet, even if only once; kindred souls will always collide; and strings of coincidences are never what they appear to be on the surface, but instead are the mask of God”
― Wayetu Moore, She Would Be King

“They told us we had no history but darkness, so they kept the books away for fear we might understand the truth better, and thus find those lost selves.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Alike spirits separated at great distances will always be bound to meet, even if only once; kindred souls will always collide...”
― Wayetu Moore, She Would Be King

“How can you leave me?' Maisy had said one night. 'You are my sister now. My flesh. Flesh cannot leave you.' At which Gbessa almost lost her breath. The kindness, the newness, stunned her.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Yes—perhaps everybody, in their own way, was either a witch or the king who loved her.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Loneliness while in the presence of others is a most cruel kind”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“how to explain to his son that because he was a Negro man, freedom was something different for him—until now.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“At first, Gbessa was clumsy. Instead of seasoning the cassava leaves with ground peppers, Gbessa dropped three whole ginger roots into the soup and ruined it. Instead of measuring the water in the rice to make sure it was not “puttehputteh” (too soft) or “raw” (too hard), she drew an entire bucket of water and poured it into the pot.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“The whips fell onto June Dey’s chest now, but as on his back, his skin did not break. Instead, each time he was struck his strength grew. Each time they whipped him, he became more infuriated and they sensed it in him. While beating him, the helper with the other whip looked down at his trousers as his bladder weakened and poured onto his clothes and shoes. Embarrassed and pale with trepidation, he lifted his gun from his belt. The maids screamed at the sight of the gun and the helper immediately fired it. The bullet soared toward June Dey and Darlene. It flew toward his chest. They expected that it would kill him on impact, expected that this would be his end and the boy would go from them as mysteriously as he had come.
But the bullet, as if repelled by his skin, fell to the ground. The slight puncture where the bullet would have made its permanent hole quickly healed in their sight, and the helper dropped the gun and ran away from them like a bullied child.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Alike spirits separated at great distances will always be bound to meet, even if only once; kindred souls will always collide; and strings of coincidences are never what they appear to be on the surface, but instead are the mask of God.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Yet even he was not strong enough to shatter what bound him—the suggestion that being good meant letting what you loved slip through your fingers to appease a man who questions your humanity. The suggestion that joy meant serving. The suggestion that, though misplaced, he was home. The suggestion that being good meant that he was to protect what was in this oppressor’s interest, but allow his own flesh to meander about life until they were all an infinity of broken men. Strong then, yes. But not a good man. He would not be that.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Was I the only one who could not tell the difference between a life in bondage and death?”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“June Dey remembered the stories Darlene once told him of the boy who killed the giants, defeated lions for their people; the story of his namesake, who led slaves through water with mere words; the story of the man who found himself in the stomach of the beast, and still survived and fulfilled his destiny; the story of Dey, who game and went from Emerson without every saying a word, but left his legacy on their lips - the possibility of rebellion and true freedom in all their hearts. All were men. All were powerless but died with raised fists.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“We did not have books on Emerson. That place where we lost our language, lost ourselves. They told us we had no history but darkness, so they kept the books away for fear we might understand the truth better, and thus find those lost selves.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Norman had no dreams then, no desires or thoughts. Only to stretch as far and as wide as he could into the undying silence, into all the beautiful things we cannot see.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“The instant he disappeared, the weight of the world could be heard and deeply felt—the marriage of whimpers, howls, groans, chastising, French, broken English, bare bottoms against bloodstained dirt, ropes against wrists, guns against palms, everything, everything, all of their sounds pulled him in.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“The people tell you the fish not yours, but they yours too. Think real hard on all the names of fish you like saying. And the mountains. The sand. That water. It yours, you hear me?”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“This was his mother. This was his poetic lo e, whose fallen shadow broke his spirit as he sprinted with the wind. She was gone.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Strong, he was. Strong, and a good man. Yet even he was not strong enough to shatter what bound him—the suggestion that being good meant letting what you loved slip through your fingers to appease a man who questions your humanity. The suggestion that joy meant serving. The suggestion that, though misplaced, he was home. The suggestion that being good meant that he was to protect what was in his oppressor's interest, but allow his own flesh to meander about life until they were all an infinity of broken men. Strong then, yes. But not a good man. He would not be that.”
― Wayétu Moore, She Would Be King

“Seem everybody I ever know ain't got time to do nothing. Someday you want time to do some things you never had time to do.”
― Wayetu Moore, She Would Be King