Reba

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” Her father rubbed his hand over his jaw. “God, I loved your mother. But she was very, very sick. And even so, I wouldn’t have traded a single moment of the time I had with her. Not even when she was throwing up or when she cried herself to sleep. Love isn’t Hallmark movies, Melina. It’s Jeopardy! but with categories so narrow only two people in the whole world know the answers. Have you seen my reading glasses? and Do I have a tick on my back? and Will you be there for me when it’s time for me to go?” He shook his head, laughing ruefully. “Mind you, when people say this is what your mom would have wanted for me, I don’t believe a word of it. Your mother would have come at me with a hatchet at the thought of me with some other woman. But…I also think she’d forgive me.” A small smile ghosted over his face. “Because that’s what best friends do.”
― Jodi Picoult, By Any Other Name

“you have any clue what it’s like to be a woman?” “Is that a trick question?” “It’s being judged constantly. For your clothes. For your curves. It’s being told every time you turn on the TV that you have to be thinner or more beautiful. It means doing the same job as a man and getting paid less for it. It means if you age naturally you’re letting yourself go, and if you get work done, you’re trying too hard.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Being a woman means being told to speak up for yourself”
― Jodi Picoult, By Any Other Name

“But when they keep prioritizing those kinds of stories, the result is there are so many others that don’t ever get told.”
― Jodi Picoult, By Any Other Name

“What was it about a woman’s voice that was so terrifying to a man? Was it the thought that a lesser creature might have intelligence or agency?”
― Jodi Picoult, By Any Other Name