Friedrich Nietzsche What makes my Thinker think is that he thinks not only with his brain, with his knitted brow, his distended nostrils and compressed lips, but with every muscle of his arms, back, and legs, with his clenched fist and gripping toes.
Love is lak de sea. She knows how life is with it and she knows how life is without it. She had three marriages with varying degrees of success. The first was a marriage with a much older man when she was on the verge of womanhood.
Her Grandmother, fearing her own death, and wanting to make sure that Janie had some security in her life made arrangements with a man of means to be her husband.
Love and lust, from her withered view, were just enticements best skipped for the security of a solid roof and a steady diet of square meals. Foundation of ancient power that no longer mattered. They diffused and melted Janie, the room and the world into one comprehension.
With barely a twist of her arm she jumped in the buggy with him and moved to Eatonville, Florida where an all black community was being formed into a town. Somebody got to think for women and chillun and chickens and cows. Now Janie was North of forty, but was still a damn good looking woman.
They, the men, were saving with the mind what they lost with the eye. A young man by the name of Tea Cake showed up and suddenly for the first time Janie found out what love felt like. Dear lord did the community carry on about this old woman shaking the sheets with this youngster with no money and no name for himself.
Janie herself was suspicious even pushed him about the thought that his intentions might be built on false pretenses.
Nobody else on earth kin hold uh candle tuh you, baby. You got de keys to de kingdom. Where do you want to go? They moved down in the Everglades to pick beans by day and for Tea Cake to shake the dice by night.
He could pick a mean guitar as well and sang songs for the entertainment of all those hard working people. Men kept circling around her like bees looking for a hive.
Not because her behavior justified his jealousy, but it relieved that awful fear inside him. Being able to whip her reassured him in possession. No brutal beating at all. He just slapped her around a bit to show who was boss.
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Dec 03, · NPR’s Book Concierge Our Guide To ’s Great Reads. by Nicole Cohen, David Eads, Rose Friedman, Becky Lettenberger, Petra Mayer, Beth Novey and Christina Rees – Published December 3, The timeworn and pedestrian answer is simply "to get to the other side." Here are some creative and original answers: The chicken crossed the road.
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