Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Jessamyn West

Quote by Jessamyn West

“Roth wrote The Breast. Would you ask him how he could do this since he had never been a breast? Adams wrote Watership Down. Would you ask him how he could do this since he admitted his rabbit knowledge came from a book about rabbits? ... And those hobbits!... I am a bigger risk-taker than these others. The Hoosiers can contradict me. No rabbit, hobbit, or breast has been known to speak up in reply to their exploiters.”

Quote by Jessamyn West

Create image

Author

Jessamyn West
Jessamyn West

Jessamyn West was an American writer born on July 18, 1902, and died on February 23, 1984. Known for her profound portrayal of rural life in the American Southwest, West's works are characterized by humor and satirical insights into character and social change. more

You May Also Like

“When it’s my turn, I fill my plate with rice, shami kabob, lentils, and butter chicken, skipping the cauliflower and salad, and pile the naan high before carefully carrying it downstairs to the basement. Rabiya, Yusuf, and the other kids are already camped in front of the TV with their food. Mustafa joins a few minutes later, plopping down on our beat-up leather sofa next to Yusuf. “There’s nothing good on,” Yusuf announces after flipping through all the channels. “Isn’t there a basketball game?” Mustafa asks. “Nooo!” Rabiya whines. “I want SpongeBob,” a little boy named Jamal says, chewing on a piece of naan. “How about we tell scary stories?” Yusuf suggests. “No way,” Rabiya refuses. “Last time I had nightmares for days.” I agree. Yusuf tells the scariest stories ever. The worst one was about severed hands of bodies that were dug up from graves. The hands came to life and would tickle people to death. I still think about that whenever we pass a graveyard.”

FearImaginationHumourLaughterStorytellingChildren S TaleSpooky Tales
Book:Amina's Voice
Create image

“You'll come with me to Vienna, of course," I said. It wasn't a question. Käthe blinked, surprised by my sudden turn in conversation. "What?" "You'll be coming with me to Vienna," I repeated. "Won't you?" "Liesl," she said, eyes shining with tears. "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure," I said. "It'll be just like the Ideal Imaginary." She laughed again, and the sound was as pure as a spring morning. The what-if games my little sister and I had played as girls had been ways to pass the time, a space we created untouched by the grime and grief of ordinary drudgery. A world where we were princesses and queens, a world as beautiful and as magical as any my brother and I had made together. "Just imagine, Käthe." I took her hand mine. "Bonbons and handsome swains waiting on us hand and foot." She giggled. "And all the silks and velvets and brocades to dress ourselves in!" "An invitation to a different ball every night!" "Masques and operas and parties and dancing!" "Schnitzel and Apfelstrudel and Turkish coffee!" "Don't forget the chocolate torte," Käthe added. "It's your favorite." I laughed, and for a moment, I allowed myself to pretend we were little girls again, when our wants and dreams were as closely entwined as our fingers. "What if," I said softly. "Not a what-if," my sister said fiercely. "A when." "When," I repeated. I could not stop smiling.”

ImaginationViennaElisabeth VoglerKäthe Vogler
Book:Shadowsong
Create image