Pickle

“But speech and truth-telling are not inherently emancipatory, and neither speech nor silence is inherently liberating or oppressive...Consent, and its conceit of absolute clarity, places the burden of good sexual interaction on women's behavoir – Woe betide she who does not know herself and speak that knowledge.”
― Katherine Angel, Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again: Women and Desire in the Age of Consent

“People think you should be in love with other people or your work or justice. I’ve been in love with people and ideas in several cities and learned that the lovers I’ve loved and the ideas I’ve embraced depended on where I was, how cold it was, and what I had to do to be able to stand”
― Eve Babitz, Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, the Flesh, and L.A.

“I am inclined to pray, but on principle, I don't. God is not for women. He is for the fruit. He makes you want and he makes you wicked, and while you sleep, he plants a seed in your womb that will be born to die.”
― Raven Leilani, Luster

“All that summer and fall she painted, mornings, afternoons, evenings, then walked around the streets that were still echoing the music of the masters, and every stone, every pebble seemed to have a life and reason of its own and she somehow felt, though vaguely, a part of that reason. Some nights she would sit in the café with other young artists and poets and musicians and who knows what else, drinking wine and talking and laughing and discussing and arguing and life was exciting and tangible and crisp like the clear Mediterranean sunlight. Then as the grayness of winter slowly seeped down from the north the energy and inspiration seemed to ooze from her as paint from a tube and now when she looked at a bare canvas it was only a bare canvas, a piece of material stretched over a few pieces of wood, it was no longer a painting waiting to be painted. It was just, canvas. She went further south. Sicily. North Africa. Trying to follow the sun to the past, the very recent past, but all she found was herself.”
― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream