The void is my friend.
How strange a world, how strange an existence, that one’s equal must argue for one’s equality, that one’s equal must hold a station that allows airing of that argument, that one cannot make that argument for oneself, that premises of said argument must be vetted by those equals who do not agree.
page 52, James by Percival Everett
I can’t be normal, so I’ll be something else.
page 144, Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor
Fathers leave in all sorts of ways. Some of them leave in the dark. Some leave only in their heads, while their bodies remain, staring at the world around them forever distantly. Others fade out over time, like an old photo rubbed raw.
page 190, The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez
Many, gone in an instant.
