Sheba Solverson

“Jefferson needs something in that cell,” I said.
“Yes, he do,” the minister said. “You hit the nail on the head, mister. Yes, he do. But not that box.”
“And what do you suggest, Reverend Ambrose?” I asked.
“God,” the minister said. “He ain’t got but five more Fridays and a half. He needs God in that cell, and not that sin box.”
“What sin box?” I said.
“What you call that kind of music he listen to?” the minister asked. “Us standing in there trying to talk to him, and him listening to that thing till she got to reach over and turn it off—what you call it?”
“I call it company, Reverend Ambrose,” I said.
“And I call it sin company,” he said.
“And I don’t care what you call it!” I said to him.”
― Ernest J. Gaines, A Lesson Before Dying

“I never really look past my eyes. That way I always feel pretty. Windows of the soul, you know.”
― E.L. Konigsburg, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs Basil E. Frankweiler

“(there is no pepper on the table; evidently pepper perks the libido),”
― Tom Hillman, Digging for God

“While Molly and Joseph Anning suffered materially that winter, with many days of weak soup and weaker fires, Mary barely noticed how little she was eating or the chilblains on her hands and feet. She was suffering inside.”
― Tracy Chevalier, Remarkable Creatures