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“Laugh all you want, but I think learning to love yourself in a country where you're told that you're the plague on the economy, that you're nothing but a prisoner in the making, that you life can be taken away from you at any moment and there's nothing you can do about it - learning to love yourself in the middle of all that? Hell, that's a goddamn miracle.”
― Hell of a Book
― Hell of a Book
“I consider Renny’s words and I look down at my black hands. “Do I have to write about being Black? What if I were an artist that only drew White characters? What would that say about me?” “What?” “I mean, White writers don’t have to write about being White. They can just write whatever books they want. But because I’m Black . . .” I pause to look at my hands and reaffirm that, yes, I really am Black. The story checks out. “. . . does that mean that I can only ever write about Blackness? Am I allowed to write about other things? Am I allowed to be something other than simply the color of my skin? I mean, I can’t quote it word for word, but isn’t that what the whole ‘I Have a Dream’ speech was about?”
― Hell of a Book
― Hell of a Book
“Free trade. This was always the British line of argument – free trade, free competition, an equal playing field for all. Only it never ended up that way, did it? What ‘free trade’ really meant was British imperial dominance, for what was free about a trade that relied on a massive build-up of naval power to secure maritime access? When mere trading companies could wage war, assess taxes, and administer civil and criminal justice?”
― Babel
― Babel
“You will forget him.” He tried to find the words to say, “This boy is only the first of many that you will meet over your life. They will stack upon one another, week by week. You’ll try to keep them in your head but, eventually, you’ll become too full and they’ll spill out and be left behind. And then, one day, you’ll grow older and you’ll realize that you’ve forgotten his name—the name of the first dead Black boy that you promised yourself you wouldn’t forget—and you’ll hate yourself. You’ll hate your memory. You’ll hate the world. You’ll hate the way you’ve failed to stop the flow of dead bodies that have piled up in your mind. You’ll try to fix it, and fail, and you’ll drown in rage. You’ll turn on yourself for not fixing everything and you’ll drown in sadness. And you’ll do it over, and over, and over again for years and, one day, you’ll have a son and you’ll see him staring down the same road that you’ve been on and you’ll want to say something that fixes him, something that saves him from it all . . . and you won’t know what to say.”
William wanted to say all of the correct words to Soot, but they were not in his mind. All that was in William’s mind was the image of his son lying on the concrete, dead, just like all the boys that came and went on television.”
― Hell of a Book
William wanted to say all of the correct words to Soot, but they were not in his mind. All that was in William’s mind was the image of his son lying on the concrete, dead, just like all the boys that came and went on television.”
― Hell of a Book
Esther’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Esther’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
1,081 books
|
114 friends
478 books
|
148 friends
1,467 books
|
93 friends
411 books
|
122 friends
57 books
|
41 friends
481 books
|
162 friends
1,055 books
|
139 friends
153 books
|
63 friends
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Esther
Lists liked by Esther
