Quotes From Beloved Toni Morrison Novels & Stories

I stepped toward her and set my hand on her waist before murmuring, “We make ourselves rich by making our wants few.” Her lips parted as if that was the most profound thing she’d ever heard. And it might’ve been, since it had originally come from the lips of Henry David Thoreau. Which was why I couldn’t continue to take credit for it. I pointed past her toward the wall with my free hand. “At least that’s what Thoreau says.” She glanced back to find the quote printed and framed above the desk. “Oh.” Scowling, she whirled back to poke me in the gut. “You cheated. That’s a cheater’s answer.”

Their conversations fueled their determination, reminding them of the profound impact their work had on individuals and communities. One evening, as they sat under a starry sky, Nathan turned to Miranda with a smile. "Miranda, the stories we've encountered in Chapter 88 have been nothing short of remarkable. They have opened our eyes to the immense strength and resilience that lies within each person. It's humbling to be a witness to these stories, and it's an honor to play a part in amplifying their voices."

She whispered, “We remember laughter. We remember grief. We remember not rage alone.” The Monument roared back, flames leaping higher. Smoke curled into shapes—faces twisted in anger, shadows of screams given form. Elise’s hands shook as she tried to weave, blood seeping through her bandages. Threads resisted, writhing like live wires. Raven shouted readings, his voice drowned by the roar. Sophia’s vision blurred as heat seared her skin. She forced herself to remember: the children in Oaxaca, the vows in Córdoba, the songs in Quito. She spoke them aloud, voice ragged.

I lay here praying and hoping that I am dying, silently I know that there is no help for me, no turning back, while my entire body morphs into something else entirely. “Hunter! Hold on, fight to endure this night, and you will rise again! You will have your vengeance!” Upon hearing his words, I knew I had to. I will myself to endure, to rise again, in Eliza's memory, and all I once loved. I promise myself I will hunt her to the ends of the earth!

I touched the torch to the great basin before me, filled with oil that had been blessed by representatives from every realm, and fire bloomed upward, a living, breathing thing that moved with purpose rather than merely burning. I smiled faintly, rising to my feet. "To every mother who has ever failed and tried again," I said, and my voice grew stronger with each word. "To every mother who has burned to keep her children warm, who has made terrible choices from love twisted by desperation. To those who have been monsters and remembered how to be human. We are still worthy of love. We are still capable of change. We are still, despite everything, mothers."

I mumble, staggering to my feet as I dig deep within myself, drawing from my source of energy with the strength Beard has instilled in me. Flashes of Zion, Sofia, Nova, Jaja, and Sylvans' faces flicker before my very eyes, and I feed off the love. The respect. The loyalty. And the courage they have all given me since meeting them. And just like Dorothy from Kansas says in the old film 'The Wizard of Oz' as she clicks her red heels together: 'There is no place like home.' And she is right, but for me… There is no place like Mahji; no better place than being wrapped up in Zion's powerful embrace. And, there is indisputably no place like being surrounded by those who love you unconditionally.

CINNAMON Mrs. Patterson sobbed quietly. Mrs. Hartley wiped her eyes. Even Mr. Daniels looked suspiciously misty. "So thank you," I continued, looking out at all these faces, people who'd suffered because of lies, who'd been used as pawns in someone else's game, who'd chosen to trust again despite every reason not to. "For giving us another chance. For believing that broken things can be made beautiful again. For letting us prove that love wins—not because it's easy, but because it refuses to quit."

“I’ll never be like you! You’re just a cold-hearted and hateful woman. I’ll never be that. Never!” She smiled cruelly. “Believe that if you want. You’re just a worthless pile of bones with a weak soul.” She snapped her fingers, and I felt the barrier disappear from around them. She left the room laughing coldly. No! I am strong. I have endured all of her hateful attempts to end my existence. I have persisted in growing as a person and I will continue to thrive as long as I have the love of the people I care about. I won’t let you win mother.

And painted across both sides, three simple quotes from Sophia’s memoir: “You are not hard to love.” “Your silence was never a flaw. It was a pause.” “We don’t rise to impress. We rise to breathe.” Ralia sat up front beside Sophia, her journal clutched like a lifeline. Her eyes shone as brightly as the morning sun they’d chased out of Benin. “I still can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, almost afraid to wake the dream. Sophia smiled, her gaze steady on the road ahead. “Neither can I.”

I lay on the ground and let the bond throb in my chest until the last of the sparks flickered out. And I remembered Mora's words again. "If you lean too hard, you'll never stand alone."