Toni Morrison is the author of ten novels, from The Bluest Eye (1970) to A Mercy (2008). She has received the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize. In 1993 she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. She lives in New York. Home: A Place of Constructing Identity Toni Morrison, in Home (2012), focuses on the roots of racism and slavery by using the stream of consciousness technique. The Blacks were treated violently and forced to leave their home. The main character of the novel is Frank Money moved from Texas to Lotus. PDFBeloved by Toni Morrison Book Free Download (324 pages) The book was published in multiple languages including English language, consists of 324 pages and is available in Paperback format. The main characters of this fiction, classics story are Baby Suggs, Sethe. The book has been awarded with Pulitzer Prize for Fiction (1988), American Book Award (1988) and many others.
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Free download or read online Sula pdf (ePUB) book. The first edition of this novel was published in 1973, and was written by Toni Morrison. The book was published in multiple languages including English language, consists of 192 pages and is available in Paperback format. The main characters of this fiction, classics story are Nel Wright Greene, Sula Peace. The book has been awarded with Audie Award for Narration by the Author or Authors (1998), National Book Award Finalist for Fiction (1975) and many others.
Home (Vintage International) - Kindle edition by Toni Morrison. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading Home (Vintage International). Free PDF Download Books by Toni Morrison. Terrible, unspeakable things happened to Sethe at Sweet Home, the farm where she lived as a slave for so many years until she escaped to Ohio. Her new life is. Toni Morrison was born Chloe Anthony Wofford, the second of four children, to George and Ramah Wofford on February 18, 1931. Both of her parents came from sharecropping families who had moved North in pursuit of better living conditions in the early 1900s, and her father’s family had faced a great deal of discrimination. Due to these bitter.
Suggested PDF: Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison pdf
Sula PDF Details
| Author: | Toni Morrison |
| Original Title: | Sula |
| Book Format: | Paperback |
| Number Of Pages: | 192 pages |
| First Published in: | 1973 |
| Latest Edition: | April 5th 2002 |
| ISBN Number: | 9780452283862 |
| Language: | English |
| Awards: | Audie Award for Narration by the Author or Authors (1998), National Book Award Finalist for Fiction (1975) |
| Main Characters: | Nel Wright Greene, Sula Peace, Helene Wright, Eva Peace, Hannah Peace |
| category: | fiction, classics, cultural, african american, historical, historical fiction, literature, seduction |
| Formats: | epub(Android), audible mp3, audiobook and kindle. |
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Home
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Home Quotes Showing 1-30 of 38
“Whose house is this? Whose night keeps out the light In here? Say, who owns this house? It’s not mine. I dreamed another, sweeter, brighter With a view of lakes crossed in painted boats; Of fields wide as arms open for me. This house is strange. Its shadows lie. Say, tell me, why does its lock fit my key?”
―
“Come on, girl. Don't cry,' whispered Frank. 'Why not? I can be miserable if I want to. You don't need to try and make it go away. It shouldn't go away. It's just as sad as it ought to be and I'm not going to hide from what's true just because it hurts.' Cee wasn't sobbing anymore, but the tears were still running down her cheeks.”
―
“Misery don't call ahead. That's why you have to stay awake - otherwise it just walks on in your door.”
―
“Look to yourself. You free. Nothing and nobody is obliged to save you but you. Seek your own land. You young and a woman and there's serious limitation in both, but you are a person too. Don't let Lenore or some trifling boyfriend and certainly no devil doctor decide who you are. That's slavery. Somewhere inside you is that free person I'm talking about. Locate her and let her do some good in the world.”
―
“..maybe you think up North is way different from down South. Don't believe it and don't count on it. Custom is just as real as law and can be just as dangerous.”
―
“Death is a sure thing but life is just as certain. Problem is you can't know in advance.”
―
“What you want to be when you grow up?” Thomas turned the knob with his left hand and opened the door. “A man,” he said and left.”
―
“Gather up your loins, daughter. You named Lillian Florence Jones after my mother. A toughter lady never lived. Find your talent and drive it.”
―
“And for a reason he still did not understand, he began to cry. Love plain, simple, and so fast it shattered him.”
―
“Nothing and nobody is obliged to save you but you.”
―
“Why not? I can be miserable if I want to. You don't need to try and make it go away. It shouldn't go away. Its just as sad as it ought to be and I'm not going to hide from what's true just because it hurts.”
―
“The loneliness she felt before Frank walked her home from Wang's cleaners began to dissolve and in its place a shiver of freedom, of earned solitude, of choosing the walls she wanted to break through, minus the burden of shouldering a tilted man. Unobstructed and undistracted, she could get serious and develop a plan to match her ambition and succeed.”
―
“I stood there a long while, staring at that tree.
It looked so strong
So beautiful.
Hurt right down the middle
But alive and well.
Cee touched my shoulder
Lightly.
Frank?
Yes?
Come on, brother. Let's go home.”
―
“So it was just herself. In this world with these people she wanted to be the person who would never again need rescue. Not from Lenore through the lies of the Rat, not from Dr. Beau through the courage of Sarah and her brother. [..] She wanted to be the one who rescued her own self. [..] Wishing would not make it so, nor would blame, but thinking might. If she did not respect herself, why should anybody else?”
―
tags: cee, self-love, self-respect, strength, womanhood
“You couldn’t learn age, but adulthood was there for all.”
―
“Well, you not the first by a long shot. An integrated army is integrated misery. You all go fight, come back, they treat you like dogs. Change that. They treat dogs better.”
―
“Misery don’t call ahead. That’s why you have to stay awake—otherwise it just walks on in your door.”
―
“his bed was where they slept and where the great thing people warned about or giggled about took place. It was not so much painful as dull. Cee thought it would get better later. Better turned out to be simply more, and while the quantity increased, its pleasure lay in its brevity.”
―
“I can be miserable if I want to. You don’t need to try and make it go away. It shouldn’t go away. It’s just as sad as it ought to be and I’m not going to hide from what’s true just because it hurts.”
―
“There was no point in questioning him. Just as long ago, when they ventured hand in hand into unknown territory, Cee accompanied her big brother silently. As annoyed as she was now at her relapse into doing what others wanted, she nevertheless cooperated. This one time, she told herself. I don’t want Frank making decisions for me.”
―
“The two oldest fought in the First World War, the rest battled in the Second. They knew about Korea but not understanding what it was about didn’t give it the respect—the seriousness—Frank thought it deserved. The veterans ranked battles and wars according to loss numbers: three thousand at this place, sixty thousand in the trenches, twelve thousand at another. The more killed, the braver the warriors, not the stupider the commanders.”
―
“Here Stands A Man.
Wishful thinking, perhaps, but he could have sworn the sweet bay was pleased to agree. Its olive-green leaves went wild in the glow of a fat cherry-red sun.”
―
“Sitting on the train to Atlanta, Frank suddenly realized that those memories, powerful as they were, did not crush him anymore or throw him into paralyzing despair. He could recall every detail, every sorrow, without needing alcohol to steady him. Was this the fruit of sobriety?”
―
“But the doctor had felt threatened as soon as he walked in the door. Yet not having to beat up the enemy to get what he wanted was somehow superior—sort of, well, smart.”
―
“The doctor raised the gun and pointed it at what in his fear ought to have been flaring nostrils, foaming lips, and the red-rimmed eyes of a savage. Instead he saw the quiet, even serene, face of a man not to be fooled with.”
―
“The loneliness she felt before Frank walked her home from Wang's cleaners began to dissolve and in its place a shiver of freedom, of earned solitude, of choosing the walls she wanted to breakthrough, minus the burden of shouldering a tilted man. Unobstructed and undistracted, she could get serious and develop a plan to match her ambition and succeed.”
―
“Come on, girl. Don't cry,' whispered Frank.
'Why not? I can be miserable if I want to. You don't need to try and make it go away. It shouldn't go away. It's just as sad as it ought to be and I'm not going to hide from what's true just because it hurts.' Cee wasn't sobbing anymore, but the tears were still running down her cheeks.”
―
“As Frank promised, there was no other public explosion. Still. The multiple times when she came home to find him idle again, just sitting on the sofa staring at the rug, were unnerving. She tried; she really tried. But every bit of housework—however minor—was hers: his clothes scattered on the floor, food-encrusted dishes in the sink, ketchup bottles left open, beard hair in the drain, waterlogged towels bunched on bathroom tiles. Lily could go on and on. And did. Complaints grew into one-sided arguments, since he wouldn’t engage.
“Where were you?”
“Just out.”
“Out where?”
“Down the street.”
Bar? Barbershop? Pool hall. He certainly wasn’t sitting in the park.
“Frank, could you rinse the milk bottles before you put them on the stoop?”
“Sorry. I’ll do it now.”
“Too late. I’ve done it already. You know, I can’t do everything.”
“Nobody can.”
“But you can do something, can’t you?”
“Lily, please. I’ll do anything you want.”
“What I want? This place is ours.”
The fog of displeasure surrounding Lily thickened. Her resentment was justified by his clear indifference, along with his combination of need and irresponsibility. Their bed work, once so downright good to a young woman who had known no other, became a duty. On that snowy day when he asked to borrow all that money to take care of his sick sister in Georgia, Lily’s disgust fought with relief and lost. She picked up the dog tags he’d left on the bathroom sink and hid them away in a drawer next to her bankbook. Now the apartment was all hers to clean properly, put things where they belonged, and wake up knowing they’d not been moved or smashed to pieces. The loneliness she felt before Frank walked her home from Wang’s cleaners began to dissolve and in its place a shiver of freedom, of earned solitude, of choosing the wall she wanted to break through, minus the burden of shouldering a tilted man. Unobstructed and undistracted, she could get serious and develop a plan to match her ambition and succeed. That was what her parents had taught her and what she had promised them: To choose, they insisted, and not ever be moved. Let no insult or slight knock her off her ground. Or, as her father was fond of misquoting, “Gather up your loins, daughter. You named Lillian Florence Jones after my mother. A tougher lady never lived. Find your talent and drive it.”
The afternoon Frank left, Lily moved to the front window, startled to see heavy snowflakes powdering the street. She decided to shop right away in case the weather became an impediment. Once outside, she spotted a leather change purse on the sidewalk. Opening it she saw it was full of coins—mostly quarters and fifty-cent pieces. Immediately she wondered if anybody was watching her. Did the curtains across the street shift a little? The passengers in the car rolling by—did they see? Lily closed the purse and placed it on the porch post. When she returned with a shopping bag full of emergency food and supplies the purse was still there, though covered in a fluff of snow. Lily didn’t look around. Casually she scooped it up
and dropped it into the groceries. Later, spread out on the side of the bed where Frank had slept, the coins, cold and bright, seemed a perfectly fair trade. In Frank Money’s empty space real money glittered. Who could mistake a sign that clear? Not Lillian Florence Jones.”
―
“Without help or a supportive husband, Lenore was as alone as she had been after her first husband died, as she had been before marrying Salem. It was too late to curry friendship with neighboring women, who she had made sure knew their level and hers. Pleading with Jackie’s mother was humiliating as well as fruitless since the answer was “Sorry.” Now she had to be content with the company of the person she prized most of all—herself. Perhaps it was that partnership between Lenore and Lenore that caused the minor stroke she suffered on a sweltering night in July. Salem found her kneeling beside the bed and ran to Mr. Haywood’s house. He drove her to the hospital in Mount Haven. There, after a long, perilous wait in the corridor, she finally received treatment that curtailed further damage. Her speech was slurred but she was ambulatory—if carefully so. Salem saw to her basic needs, but was relieved to learn he could not understand a word she spoke. Or so he said.”
―
Home Toni Morrison Characters
“Although each of her nurses was markedly different from the others in looks, dress, manner of speech, food and medical preferences, their similarities were glaring. There was no excess in their gardens because they shared everything. There was no trash or garbage in their homes because they had a use for everything. They took responsibility for their lives and for whatever, whoever else needed them. The absence of common sense irritated but did not surprise them. Laziness was more than intolerable to them; it was inhuman. Whether you were in the field, the house, your own backyard, you had to be busy. Sleep was not for dreaming; it was for gathering strength for the coming day. Conversation was accompanied by tasks; ironing, peeling, shucking, sorting, sewing, mending, washing, or nursing. You couldn't learn age, but adulthood was there for all. Mourning was helpful but God was better and they did not want to meet their Maker and have to explain a wasteful life. They knew He would ask each of them one question: 'What have you done?”
―
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