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Quote by John Collier

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Fancies and Goodnights

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John Collier

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“I couldn’t put my finger on it, but eventually I knew: I couldn’t deliver the demon. There was no evil child here, no bad apple. These girls were good people who had done bad things, and for understandable, if not good, reasons. They were not the cold, cunning creatures girl bullies are so often made out to be.”

“Denying those [negative] feelings locks us away from ourselves and so from authentic relationships with others. Denying those feelings doesn’t make them go away but somewhere else, leaving the people around us unsure of what we mean, who we are, and how we feel. Denying them takes us to a place others sense but do not see. It is a place no girl deserves to be.”

“Are you blaming my mood on my period?" Zach's face flushed a deeper red. "I'm just saying you don't have to feel bad about it." "I don't feel bad! And, also, I didn't have my period when I first got here. But even if I did, it's none of your business. Don’t ever blame a girl’s mood on her period. It's like saying her feelings aren’t real because hormones are taking over.”

“Teach girls to be aggressive? Well, yes. I return again to a major symptom of girls’ loss of self-esteem: idealized, or conflict-free, relationships. If we can guide girls into comfort with “messy” feelings such as jealousy, competition, and anger, they will be less likely to take them out of their relationships with others. They will feel free to confess strong feelings, and they will stay in touch with themselves. They will be less likely to repress the feelings that over time simmer into rageful acts of cruelty.”

“When I arrived at this all-white school that first day, all the white parents rushed in and pulled out their kids. They didn't want their children going to school with me. But why? I didn't understand. They had never met or even seen me before now, so how could they know what kind of person I was? But none of that mattered. I don't think they even saw a child. All they saw was the color of my skin. I was black, and that meant I didn't matter.”

“The law might not recognize it, but fifteen‘s a girl and sixteen a woman, and you get no map from one land to the next. They air-drop you in, booting a bag of Kissing Potion lip gloss and off-the-shoulder blouses after you. As you‘re plummering, trying to release your parachute and grab for that bag at the same time, they holler out "your are pretty", like they‘re giving you some sort of gift, some vital key, but really, it‘s meant to distract you from yanking your cord. Girls who land broken are easy prey. If you‘re lucky enough to come down on your feet, your instincts scream to bolt straight for the trees. You drop your parachute, pluck that bag from the ground (surely it contains something you need), and run like hell, breath tight and blood pounding because boys-who-are-men are being air-droped here, too. Lord only knows what got loaded into their bags, but it does not matter because they do terrible things in packs, boys-who-are-men, things they‘d never have the hate to do alone...we were racing to survive the open-field sprint from girl to woman.”