Maja

“Jarret insists on being a throwback to some earlier, “simpler” time. Now does not suit him. Religious tolerance does not suit him. The current state of the country does not suit him. He wants to take us all back to some magical time when everyone believed in the same God, worshipped him in the same way, and understood that their safety in the universe depended on completing the same religious rituals and stomping anyone who was different. There was never such a time in this country. But these days when more than half the people in the country can’t read at all, history is just one more vast unknown to them.”
― Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Talents

“The Trumpian lie is different. It is the power lie, or the bully lie. It is the lie of the bigger kid who took your hat and is wearing it—while denying that he took it. There is no defense against this lie because the point of the lie is to assert power, to show “I can say what I want when I want to.” The power lie conjures a different reality and demands that you choose between your experience and the bully’s demands:”
― Masha Gessen, Surviving Autocracy

“One morning, I overslept. After the war, if you were late to work…even ten minutes late, they could send you to prison. The foreman saved me: “Tell them I sent you down to the quarry…” If someone had informed on me, he would have been charged as well. After ’53, they stopped punishing lateness like that. After Stalin died, people started smiling again; before that, they lived carefully. Without smiles.”
― Svetlana Alexievich, Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets

“The strongest and most aggressive started doing business. We forgot all about Lenin and Stalin. And that’s what saved us from another civil war with Reds on the one side and Whites on the other. Friends and foes. Instead of blood, there was all this new stuff… Life! We chose the beautiful life. No one wanted to die beautifully anymore, everyone wanted to live beautifully instead. The only problem was that there wasn’t really enough to go around…”
― Svetlana Alexievich, Second-hand Time