Ketutar Jensen

“I knew as a 10-year-old Black girl that I was not precious to these adults. I believed they would kill me as readily as they would kill the Viet Cong the US was at war with. It didn't matter that I was a United States citizen. It didn't matter that I was very smart, would probably grow up to be pretty like my mother, or that I was fun to talk to and had unlimited potential. It didn't matter that I was a good girl and hadn't been suspended from school. It didn't matter because I didn't matter to them.”
― Mae Jemison, Find Where the Wind Goes: Moments From My Life

“You can be talented at anything with practice,” Jack said as he leafed through the book. “All depends on how bad you want it.”
― Kit Morgan, Dorcas: An Independence Day Bride

“Well, she was weak, as weak as you must expect women to be after centuries of custom have bred weakness into their very nature. Why are women weak? Because men have made them so. Because the law that was framed by men, and the public opinion which it has been their privilege to direct, have from age to age drilled into women the belief that they are chattels, to be owned and played with, existing for the male pleasure and passion. Because men have systematically stunted their mental growth and denied them their natural rights, and that equality which is theirs. Weak! Women have become weak because weakness is the passport to the favour of our sex. They have become foolish because education has been withheld from them and ability discouraged; they have become frivolous because frivolity has been declared to be the natural mission of woman. There is no male simpleton who does not like to find a bigger simpleton than he is to lord it over. Truly, the triumph of the stronger sex has been complete, for it has even succeeded in enlisting its victims in its service. The great instruments in the suppression of women, and in their retention at their present level, are women themselves.”
― H. Rider Haggard, The Witch's Head. Vol. II

“Now all the candles were lit, and the faces on both sides of the table were brought nearer by the candle light, and composed, as they had not been in the twilight, into a party round a table”
― Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse