Gimme hate, Lord,โ he whimpered. โIโll take hate any day. But donโt give me love. I canโt take no more love, Lord. I canโt carry it...Itโs too heavy. Jesus, you know, you know all about it. Ainโt it heavy? Jesus? Ainโt love heavy?
Toni Morrison...she needed to confirm its presence. Like the keeper of the lighthouse and the prisoner, she regarded it as a mooring, a checkpoint, some stable visual object that assured her that the world was still there; that this was like and not a dream. That she was alive somewhere, inside, which she acknowledged to be true only because a thing she knew intimately was out there, outside of herself.
Toni MorrisonWhen a child walks in the room, your child or anybody elseโs child, do your eyes light up? Thatโs what theyโre looking for.
Toni Morrison