Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Sister Souljah

Quote by Sister Souljah

Work

Life After Death

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Sister Souljah
Sister Souljah

Sister Souljah (born Lisa Williams, 1964) is an American author, activist, and social commentator. Born in the Bronx, New York, she gained prominence as a former member of the Nation of Islam. She is best known for her 1999 novel "The Coldest Winter Ever," which became a bestseller and established her as a significant voice in contemporary literature. Souljah is recognized for her sharp social commentary on African American community issues and her exploration of race, class, and social justice in her works. more

You May Also Like

“Darling, I’ve realised I don’t love you. If I loved anyone, it would be you. But I love no one. I’ve come to understand I don’t care about anything except for myself. Any kindness I’ve ever shown has been in my own self-interest. The very existence of other people seems doubtful. I wanted more from life than this. Let’s have a baby.”

LoveLove QuotesLoversSelf InterestBabiesLovelessSelf Interest QuotesLovelessnessLoveless MarriageBaby Making
Book:How to Be Happy
Create image

“The permanence of my impermanence. I stand in possession of it. I stand before him at the entrance to a subway station, in possession of nothing but myself. Myself is everything, I want to tell him. But to him it is nothing, because that's how he feels about himself right now. He is alone, and so he is nothing. How do I explain to him that what applies to him does not apply to me? His context is not my context. How do you blow up the bus you've been forced to ride your entire life? It wasn't your fault there were no other means of transportation available.”

MarriageFeministNew York CityBabiesModern WomanSinglehood
Book:All Grown Up
Create image

“She discovered that her perception of the world had become doubled, as though it had acquired a stereoscopic property. A pleasant puff of wind blowing through the window became both frightening and alarming, because Yurik turned over in his crib from the stream of air on his cheeks. The tap of a hammer in the apartment above, which she wouldn't even have noticed before, was painful to her ears, and she responded to these blows from the depths of her body, just like the baby. ... She hoped that when she stopped breast-feeding him her familiar world would re-establish itself. But this never happened. On the contrary, it was as though, together with the baby, she was learning to know what was soft, hard, hot, or sharp; she looked at the branch of a tree, a toy, any object at all, with primordial curiosity. Just like him, she ripped pages of newsprint and listened to the rustling of the paper; she licked his toys, noting that the plastic duck was more pleasing to the tongue than the rubber kitten. Once, after she had fed Yurik, she was wiping the sticky cream of wheat off the table with her hand and she caught herself thinking that there was indeed something pleasurable about smearing it on the surface. Yurik was thrilled when he saw his mother doing what he liked to do, and started slapping his little palm in the mess of porridge. Both of them were rubbing their hands around on the tabletop. Both of them were happy.”

MotherhoodBabies
Book:Лестница Якова
Create image

“The child turned to look at Elizabeth, then stood up. The head was more disproportionately large than that of a human baby. Upon some reassuring noises from the adults, the the young saur ran across the grass and tumbled into Elizabeth's lap. She crooned over it, tickling and stroking; it reached up its clawed fingers to her hair and whistled. "Her name is Blathora," said Salasso. "She is two years old." . . . "Sharp teeth," warned Salasso. "And a taste for mammal blood.”

BabiesMingulaySaurs
Book:Cosmonaut Keep
Create image