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Quote by Per Petterson

“But that's life. That's what you learn from; when things happen. Especially at your age. You just have to take it in and remember to think afterwards and not forget and never grow bitter.”

Quote by Per Petterson

Book:Out Stealing Horses
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Out Stealing Horses

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Per Petterson

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“White ain't nothing.' Mama's grip did not lessen. 'It is something, Cassie. White is something just like black is something. Everybody born on this Earth is something, and nobody, no matter what color is better than anybody else.' 'Then how come Mr. Simms don't know that.' 'Because he's one of those people who has to believe that white people are better than black people to make himself feel big.' I stared questionably at Mama, not really understanding. Mama squeezed my hadn't and explained further, 'You see, Cassie, many years ago, when our people were fist brought from Africa in chains to work as slaves in this country--' 'Like Big Ma's Papa and Mama?' Mama nodded. "Yes, baby. Like Papa Luke and Mama Rachael. Except they were born right here is Mississippi, but their grandparents were born in Africa. And when they came, there was some white people who thought that is was wrong for any people to be slaves. So the people who needed slaves to work in their fields and the people who were making money bringing slaves from Africa preached that black people weren't really people like white people were, so slavery was all right. They also said that slavery was good for us because it thought us to be good Christians, like the white people.' She sighed deeply, her voice fading into a distant whisper, 'But they didn't teach us Christianity to save our souls, but to teach us obedience. They were afraid of slave revolts and they wanted us to learn the Bible's teachings about slaves being loyal to their masters. But even teaching Christianity didn't make us stop wanting to be free and many slaves ran away.”

FreedomRaceChristianitySlaveryEqualityOppressionInequalityAfrican AmericansMississippiSlavesCivil Liberty
Author:Mildred D. Taylor
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“Kita tidak perlu menjelaskan panjang lebar. Itu kehidupan kita. Tidak perlu siapa pun mengakuinya untuk dibilang hebat. Kitalah yang tahu persis setiap perjalanan hidup yang kita lakukan. Karena sebenarnya yang tahu persis kita bahagia atau tidak, tulus atau tidak, hanya kita sendiri. Kita tidak perlu menggapai seluruh catatan hebat menurut versi manusia sedunia. Kita hanya perlu merengkuh rasa damai dalam hati kita sendiri. Kita tidak perlu membuktikan apa pun kepada siapa pun bahwa kita itu baik. Buat apa? Sama sekali tidak perlu. Jangan merepotkan diri sendiri dengan penilaian orang lain. Karena toh, kalaupun orang lain menganggap kita demikian, pada akhirnya tetapi kita sendiri yang tahu persis apakah kita memang sebaik itu.”

InspirationalLife Lessons
Book:Rindu
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“And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see; or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read. Guided by my heritage of a love of beauty and a respect for strength—in search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.”

FreedomLegacyCreative ExpressionArtistic Spirit
Book:In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens: Womanist Prose
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“When the woman you live with is an artist, every day is a surprise. Clare has turned the second bedroom into a wonder cabinet, full of small sculptures and drawings pinned up on every inch of wall space. There are coils of wire and rolls of paper tucked into shelves and drawers. The sculptures remind me of kites, or model airplanes. I say this to Clare one evening, standing in the doorway of her studio in my suit and tie, home from work, about to begin making dinner, and she throws one at me; it flies surprisingly well, and soon we are standing at opposite ends of the hall, tossing tiny sculptures at each other, testing their aerodynamics. The next day I come home to find that Clare has created a flock of paper and wire birds, which are hanging from the ceiling in the living room. A week later our bedroom windows are full of abstract blue translucent shapes that the sun throws across the room onto the walls, making a sky for the bird shapes Clare has painted there. It's beautiful. The next evening I'm standing in the doorway of Clare's studio, watching her finish drawing a thicket of black lines around a little red bird. Suddenly I see Clare, in her small room, closed in by all her stuff, and I realize that she's trying to say something, and I know what I have to do.”

LoveArtistFreedomCreativityWomanBirds
Book:The Time Traveler's Wife
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