Jas

“Food was how my mother expressed her love. No matter how critical or cruel she could seem—constantly pushing me to meet her intractable expectations—I could always feel her affection radiating from the lunches she packed and the meals she prepared for me just the way I liked them.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“I’ve just never met someone like you," as if I were a stranger from another town or an eccentric guest accompanying a mutual friend to a dinner party. It was a strange thought to hear from the mouth of the woman who had birthed and raised me, with whom I shared a home for eighteen years, someone who was half me. My mother had struggled to understand me just as I struggled to understand her. Thrown as we were on opposite sides of a fault line—generational, cultural, linguistic—we wandered lost without a reference point, each of us unintelligible to the other’s expectations, until these past few years when we had just begun to unlock the mystery, carve the psychic space to accommodate each other, appreciate the differences between us, linger in our refracted commonalities. Then, what would have been the most fruitful years of understanding were cut violently short, and I was left alone to decipher the secrets of inheritance without its key.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“So? What are you going to do about it? Throw your mashed potatoes at me? I'm consumed by terror.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Half-Blood

“Okay. He had a point but it wasn’t like I could tell him anything. I
could see me now: Guess what? You ever watch Clash of the Titans or
read any Greek fables? Well those gods are real and yeah, I’m sort of
a descendant of them. Kind of like the stepchild no one wants to claim.
Oh, and I hadn’t even been around mortals until three years ago. Can
we still be friends?”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Daimon