I don't do the things other people call "play."

A son ain't what a woman say. A son is what a man do.

A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.

Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another.

Like any artist without an art form, she became dangerous.

Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left...They were everything. Everything was there, in them...Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would see only what there was to see: the eyes of other people.

All important things are hard.