Scarlett

“So what are we going to do the rest of our lives? Stay home and watch the parades go by? Amuse ourselves with the glass menagerie, darling?”
― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

“Actually, the quality of these incidents was such, that you couldn’t remember them by speaking. Or even by thinking in words. The only way was to stop for a moment and feel it again.”
― Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

“Joan Baez was a personality before she was entirely a person, and, like anyone to whom that happen, she is in a sense the hapless victim of what others have seen in her, written about her, wanted her to be and not to be. The roles assigned to her are various, but variations on a single theme. She is the Madonna of the disaffected. She is the pawn of the protest movement. She is the unhappy analysand. She is the singer who would not train her voice, the rebel who drives the Jaguar too fast, the Rima who hides with the bird and the deer. Above all, she is the girl who “feels” things, who has hung on to the freshness and pain of adolescence, the girl ever wounded, ever young. Now, at an age when the wounds begin to heal whether one wants them to or not, Joan Baez never leaves the Carmel Valley.”
― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

“Bertha is not my name. You are trying to make me into someone else, calling me by another name. I know, that’s obeah too.”
― Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea