Julia

“She tells me her theory that, for her, rescued animals are like onions. You work so hard to peel off one layer of anxiety, only to expose another, and then another that you had absolutely no idea was hiding underneath.”
― Laura Coleman, The Puma Years

“A story on the page is like a printed circuit for our lives to flow through, A story told invokes our dim capacity to be alive in bodies not our own. You would want the whole planet in voice and the totality of intimate human narrations composing a hymn to enlightenment if that were possible. In”
― E.L. Doctorow, City of God: A Novel

“Instead, I began to cook. Mostly the kind of food you could crawl into and that required sleeping off. The kind you’d order on death row.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“Did this really happen?” Tabitha asked. “No, dear,” Yaltha said. “It’s not meant to be a factual story, but it’s still true.” “I don’t see how,” Tabitha said. I wasn’t sure I did either. “I mean that the story can happen inside us,” Yaltha said. “Think of it—the life you’re living can be torn apart like Osiris’s and a new one pieced together. Some part of you might die and a new self will rise up to take its place.” Tabitha scrunched her face. Yaltha said, “Right now you are a girl in your father’s house, but soon that life will die and a new one will be born—that of a wife.” She turned her gaze on me. “Do not leave it to fate. You must be the one who does the resurrecting. You must be Isis re-creating Osiris.” My aunt nodded at me, and I understood. If my life must be torn apart by this betrothal, then I must try to reassemble it according to my own design. That night I lay on my bed determined to become free of my betrothal by a divorce before the marriage ritual ever occurred. It would be difficult, nearly impossible. A”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Book of Longings