Authors do not supply imaginations, they expect their readers to have their own, and to use it — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“Brian darling, I’m really not such an idiot that I don’t realize that if a man calls me a nigger it’s his fault the… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“You knew what his opinion of you was, while he -- Well, 'twas ever thus. We know, always have. They don't. Not quite. It… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“No, certainly he didn’t. Not actually. He couldn’t, not very well, since he didn’t know. But he would have. It amounts to the same… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
These people yapped loudly of race, of race consciousness, of race pride, and yet suppressed its most delightful manifestations, love of color, joy of… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“And mingled with her disbelief and resentment was another feeling, a question. Why hadn’t she spoken that day? Why, in the face of Bellew’s… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“But there was, she knew, something else. Happiness, she supposed. Whatever that might be. What, exactly, she wondered, was happiness. Very positively she wanted… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“she regarded with an astonishment that had in it a mild degree of amusement the violence of the feelings which it stirred in her.” — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“This, Irene told her, was the year 1927 in the city of New York, and hundreds of white people of Hugh Wentworth’s type came… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
that's what everybody wants, just a little more money, even the people who have it. — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“Not so lonely that that old, queer, unhappy restlessness had begun again within him; that craving for some place strange and different, which at… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
“After all these years to still blame her like this. Hadn’t his success proved that she’d been right in insisting that he stick to… — Nella Larsen Copy Share Image
