M

“One thing,” she whispered, her lips by his jaw. She didn’t want anyone to overhear. “Before I forget.” “What’s that?” “Stop writing about me.” Only Eva could’ve noticed the change in his expression. She saw the flinch. The slow, satisfied curl of his lip. His bronzy-amber eyes flashing. It was like he’d been waiting years to hear those words. Like the girl whose pigtails he’d been yanking during recess all year had finally shoved him back. He looked gratified. In a voice both raspy and low, and so, so familiar, Shane said, “You first.”
― Tia Williams, Seven Days in June

“Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.”
― Rumi

“God is the color of water. Water doesn't have a color.”
― James McBride, The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother