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“Så mycket att svälja och kväljas av.
Skam, över ursprung och fattigdom, skam över blod och språk som måste förnekas, som blandas, skam som grumlar, ilska och glädje som bara får tas ut i små små portioner. Svenskar, men inte svenska. Inte samer med exotiska koltar. Finsktalande, men inte finnar. Ingen riktig finska. Så mycket stolthet över väl utför arbete att svälja. Och att veta sitt värde. Vari nu detta ligger. Och visst beskrivs de:
"I älfdalen finns en rätt talrik och idog befolkning."
Idog. Att göra sitt arbete väl och med kärlek. Så kan man ändå bli någon, någon som arbetar. Och blod har väl alltid blandats. Och det handlar om hur värde och rättigheter fördelas. Att kväljas av Norrlandshjälp och AMS-bidrag.”
Pia Mariana Raattamaa Visén, Där rinner en älv genom Saivomuotka by

Mackenzi Lee
“Percy sees me off at the door with more affirming words but no hug or even a pat upon the shoulder. Thank god for friends who learn to speak to you in your own language rather than making you learn theirs.”
Mackenzi Lee , The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy

Virginia Woolf
“The human frame being what it is, heart, body, and brain all mixed together, and not contained in separate compartments as they will be no doubt in another million years, a good dinner is of great importance to good talk. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well”
Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

Richard Powers
“Time stops. He lies on his shattered back, looking upward. The dome above him hovers, a cracked shell about to fall in shards all around him. A thousand - a thousand thousand - green-tipped, splitting fingerlings fold over him, praying and threatening. Bark disintegrates; wood clarifies. The trunk turns into stacks of spreading metropolis, networks of conjoined cells pulsing with energy and liquid sun, water rising through long thin reeds, through the narrowing tunnels of transparent twigs and out through their waving tips, while sun-made sustenance drops down in tubes just inside them. A colossal, rising, reaching, stretching space elevator of a billion independent parts, shuttling the air into the sky and storing the sky deep underground, sorting possibility from out of nothing: the most perfect piece of self-writing code that his eyes could hope to see. Then his eyes close in shock and Neelay shuts down.”
Richard Powers, The Overstory

Jane Austen
“What are men to rocks and mountains?”
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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