Saturday, December 3, 2011

Word

"In a way, her strangeness, her naivete, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of an idle imagination.  Had she paints, or clay, or knew the discipline of the dance, or strings, had she anything to engage her tremendous curiosity and her gift for metaphor, she might have exchanged the restlessness and preoccupation with whim for an activity that provided her with all she yearned for.  And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous."
                                                               
                                                                                            Toni Morrison in Sula

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