Nina Simone Quotes

You've got to learn to leave the table When love's no longer being served".

What kept me sane was knowing that things would change, and it was a question of keeping myself together until they did.

You can't help it. An artist's duty, as far as I'm concerned, is to reflect the times.

Life is short. People are not easy to know. They're not easy to know, so if you don't tell them how you feel, you're not going to get anywhere, I feel.

I'll tell you what Freedom is to me. No fear.

It was always Marx, Lenin, and revolution - real girl's talk.

There's no excuse for the young people not knowing who the heroes and heroines are or were

You have to learn to get up from the table when love is no longer being served.

This is the world you have made yourself, now you have to live in it.

I have to constantly re-identify myself to myself, reactivate my own standards, my own convictions about what I'm doing and why.

I am just one of the people who is sick of the social order, sick of the establishment, sick to my soul of it all. To me, America’s society is nothing but a cancer, and it must be exposed before it can be cured. I am not the doctor to cure it. All I can do is expose the sickness.

You don't have to live next to me / Just give me my equality.

Having as little to do with human beings as possible - in some weird way, I'm at peace.

To most white people, jazz means black and jazz means dirt, and that's not what I play. I play black classical music.

It is an artist's duty to reflect the times.

Greed has driven the world crazy. And I think I'm lucky that I have a place over here that I can call home.

Love me, love me, love me, Say you do. Let me fly away with you. For my love is like the wind, And wild is the wind. - Wild is the Wind

Sometimes I sound like gravel and sometimes I sound like coffee and cream.

Cause your mama's name was lonely, and your daddy's name was pain. And they called you little sorrow, cus you'll never love again. You ain't got no one to hold you. You ain't got no one to care. if you'd only understand it. nobody wants you anywhere.

I came to expect despair every time I set foot in my own country, and I was never disappointed.

You use up everything you've got trying to give everybody what they want.

I’m just a soul whose intentions are good,’“ he sang to the crabs and the spiders and the palmetto beetles and the lizards and the night. ‘“Oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.

They don't know that I'm dead, and my ghost is holding on.

Talent is a burden not a joy. I am not of this planet. I do not come from you. I am not like you.

Nina Simone Feeling Good Birds flying high you know how I feel Sun in the sky you know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good Fish in the sea you know how I feel River running free you know how I feel Blossom on the tree you know how I feel Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean Sleep in peace when day is done That's what I mean And this old world is a new world And a bold world For me Stars when you shine you know how I feel Scent of the pine you know how I feel Oh freedom is mine And I know how I feel

It is a fact that I don’t get enough love, I never did get enough love,

Don'tcha know that no one alive can always be an angel? When everything goes wrong, you see some bad But oh, I'm just a soul whose intentions are good Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood

Snarling an oath from an Icelandic saga, I reclaimed my place at the head of the queue. "Oy!" yelled a punk rocker, with studs in his cranium. "There's a fackin' queue!" Never apologize, advises Lloyd George. Say it again, only this time, ruder. "I know there's a 'fackin' queue'! I already queued in it once and I am not going to queue in it again just because Nina Simone over there won't sell me a ruddy ticket!" A colored yeti in a clip-on uniform swooped. "Wassa bovver?" "This old man here reckons his colostomy bag entitles him to jump the queue," said the skinhead, "and make racist slurs about the lady of Afro-Caribbean extraction in the advance-travel window." I couldn't believe I was hearing this.

But you have to love yourself the most. No one else can do that for you.

That’s the beauty of the people we love,” she finally said. “No matter how well we know them, there’s always more to discover.

Give the world half of what Nina Simone gave it, and you have lived an exceptional life.

Wonder then is a force of liberation, it makes sense of what our souls inherently know we were meant for. Every mundane glimpse is salve on a wound, instructions for how to set the bone right again. If you really want to get free, find God on the subway, find God in the soap bubble. Me, I meet God in the taste of my grandmas chicken, I hear God in the raspy leather of Nina Simones voice, I see the face of God in the boney teenager bagging my groceries and why shouldn't I? My faith is held together by wonder, by ever defined commitment to presence and paying attention.

Just go. Now. Please.” Jack’s grandma had told her it was always good to give men simple instructions in complicated situations.

Mother-daughter murder night, we used to call it. It was our little ritual.

I thought about how many tiny secrets there must be out there in the universe waiting to be revealed. How many people have secret places with abandoned dreams, full of wonder.

Once I understood Bach's music, I wanted to be a concert pianist. Bach made me dedicate my life to music, and it was that teacher who introduced me to his world.

Life is a negotiation. With yourself. With others. You can’t sit around waiting for someone else to guess what you want. You have to ask for it, even if it’s scary.

In my experience,” Lana said, articulating each word with precision, “women who blame other women for their problems have their own deficiencies to deal with.

God, if he’s never heard Nina Simone, I don’t know how this is going to continue.

Here in the warmth and dim lighting, with scents of coffee and cheesecake in the air, Nina Simone on the sound system, the gripped feeling in her chest was beginning to subside.

Singer and activist Nina Simone said, ‘It’s an artist’s duty to reflect the times in which we live.

Nina Simone helped delay the beginning of the end.

Méfie-toi, ma fille, tous les hommes de ce pays sont des monstres pour les femmes. Ils sont obsédés par les apparences, ils sont ligotés par les coutumes, ils sont rongés par Dieu, ils sont bouffés par leurs mères, ils sont taraudés par le fric, ils passent leur vie à offrir sur un plateau leur cul au bon Dieu, ils ouvrent leur braguette comme on arme une mitraillette, ils lâchent leur sexe sur les femmes, comme on lâche des pitbulls. Quels chiens !" (p.10)

today, i am a black woman in a body of coal i am always burning and no one knows my name i am a nameless fury, i am a blues scratched from the throat of ms. nina—i am always angry i am always a bumble hive of hello i love like this too loudly, my neighbors think i am an unforgiving bitter sometimes, i think my neighbors are right most times i think my neighbors are nosey

Ain't Got No/i Got Life I ain't got no home, ain't got no shoes Ain't got no money, ain't got no class Ain't got no skirts, ain't got no sweater Ain't got no perfume, ain't got no beer Ain't got no man Ain't got no mother, ain't got no culture Ain't got no friends, ain't got no schooling Ain't got no love, ain't got no name Ain't got no ticket, ain't got no token Ain't got no God Then what have I got Why am I alive anyway? Yeah, what have I got Nobody can take away Got my hair, got my head Got my brains, got my ears Got my eyes, got my nose Got my mouth, I got my smile I got my tongue, got my chin Got my neck, got my boobs Got my heart, got my soul Got my back, I got my sex I got my arms, got my hands Got my fingers, got my legs Got my feet, got my toes Got my liver, got my blood I've got life I've got my freedom I've got life I've got life And I'm gonna keep it I've got life And nobody's gonna take it away

I know that if you spend enough on each person person in a village, you will change their lives. If you put in enough resources-enough mzungu,foreigners, technical assistance, and money-lives change. I know that....The problem is, when you walk, what happens? -Simon Bland

Around 6:30, I fire up one of the playlists that my husband, Phil, has made. Nina Simone starts to sing and my movements become more fluid. I love to dance. Guests might see me on the line and think I’m cooking, but I’m really feeling the music, feeling the timing—dancing and cooking at the same time.

He remembered what his father had said when Simon complained about the wild, unruly sea: "Learn to love it, son. Learn to love what you do, whatever it is, and you won't have any problems. You'll suffer, but then you'll feel, and when you feel, you're alive. You need troubles to be alive -- otherwise you're dead!

Jack’s grandma had told her it was always good to give men simple instructions in complicated situations.

This is my chance,” she said. “I may not like the way it has come to me. But I’d be a fool not to take it.

Never volunteer to be a secretary,

The people that built their heaven on your land are telling you yours is in the sky

In the words of cognitive scientists Deirdre Wilson and Dan Sperber, relevance “yields positive cognitive effect.” Something is relevant if it gives you new information, if it adds meaning to your life, if it makes a difference to you. It’s not enough for something to be familiar, or connected to something you already know. Relevance leads you somewhere. It brings new value to the table.

Read. You should read Bukowski and Ferlinghetti, read Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, and listen to Coltrane, Nina Simone, Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, Son House, Robert Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Miles Davis, Lou Reed, Nick Drake, Bobbie Gentry, George Jones, Jimmy Reed, Odetta, Funkadelic, and Woody Guthrie. Drive across America. Ride trains. Fly to countries beyond your comfort zone. Try different things. Join hands across the water. Different foods. New tasks. Different menus and tastes. Talk with the guy who’s working in construction on your block, who’s working on the highway you’re traveling on. Speak with your neighbors. Get to know them. Practice civil disobedience. Try new resistance. Be part of the solution, not the problem. Don’t litter the earth, it’s the only one you have, learn to love her. Care for her. Learn another language. Trust your friends with kindness. You will need them one day. You will need earth one day. Do not fear death. There are worse things than death. Do not fear the reaper. Lie in the sunshine but from time to time let the neon light your way. ZZ Top, Jefferson Airplane, Spirit. Get a haircut. Dye your hair pink or blue. Do it for you. Wear eyeliner. Your eyes are the windows to your soul. Show them off. Wear a feather in your cap. Run around like the Mad Hatter. Perhaps he had the answer. Visit the desert. Go to the zoo. Go to a county fair. Ride the Ferris wheel. Ride a horse. Pet a pig. Ride a donkey. Protest against war. Put a peace symbol on your automobile. Drive a Volkswagen. Slow down for skateboarders. They might have the answers. Eat gingerbread men. Pray to the moon and the stars. God is out there somewhere. Don’t worry. You’ll find out where soon enough. Dance. Even if you don’t know how to dance. Read The Four Agreements. Read the Bible. Read the Bhagavad Gita. Join nothing. It won’t help. No games, no church, no religion, no yellow-brick road, no way to Oz. Wear beads. Watch a caterpillar in the sun.

You know how you told me winners never mumble?” Jack held up the book she was reading about Theodore Roosevelt. “He says you should speak softly and carry a big stick.” Lana scoffed. “You think they let women have sticks?

Lilac Wine" I lost myself on a cool damp night Gave myself in that misty light Was hypnotized by a strange delight Under a lilac tree I made wine from the lilac tree Put my heart in its recipe It makes me see what I want to see... And be what I want to be When I think more than I want to think Do things I never should do I drink much more that I ought to drink Because I brings me back you... Lilac wine is sweet and heady, like my love Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, like my love Listen to me... I cannot see clearly Isn't that she coming to me nearly here? Lilac wine is sweet and heady where's my love? Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, where's my love? Listen to me, why is everything so hazy? Isn't that she, or am I just going crazy, dear? Lilac Wine, I feel unready for my love...

Wild Is The Wind" Love me, love me, love me, say you do Let me fly away with you For my love is like the wind And wild is the wind Give me more than one caress Satisfy this hungriness Let the wind blow through your heart For wild is the wind You touch me I hear the sound of mandolins You kiss me With your kiss my life begins You're spring to me All things to me Don't you know you're life itself Like a leaf clings to a tree Oh my darling, cling to me For we're creatures of the wind And wild is the wind So wild is the wind You touch me I hear the sound of mandolins You kiss me With your kiss my life begins Dady, you're spring to me All things to me Don't you know you're life itself Like a leaf clings to a tree Oh my darling, cling to me For we're creatures of the wind And wild is the wind So wild is the wind Wild is the wind Wild is the wind Wild is the wind

Land is the most precious form of power on this planet. There’s only so much of it. When you buy it—” “—or steal it—” Lana nodded. “You stake a claim on its future. If you own the land, you can do what you want. You can plant trees, build skyscrapers, or plan a whole new city. You can shape the future you want for yourself and your family.

There's a recording of Nina Simone's "Ain't Got No", where Simone, after listing all the things she doesn't have - a home, shoes, money, class, a country, schooling, children, sisters or brothers - she begins, around the two-minute mark, to list all that she's got, that "nobody", she sings, "can take away". Hair on her head, brains, ears, a nose, and her mouth. She has her smile too. Her tongue, her chin, her neck, and, my favourite, her boobies. When Nina Simone shouts "my boobies" in her syrupy, cool-wail of a voice, it's as if she's invented a whole new body part. Boobies. These aren't just breasts, they're boobies; they bob and hang. They're funny and beautiful. They're boobies. And I can never unhear Nina Simone claiming hers.

Feelings Feelings, nothing more than feelings, Trying to forget my feelings of love. Teardrops rolling down on my face, Trying to forget my feelings of love. Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it. I wish I've never met you, girl; You'll never come again. Feelings, wo-o-o feelings, Wo-o-o, feel you again in my arms. Feelings, feelings Like I've never lost you And feelings like I've never Have you again in my heart. Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it. I wish I've never met you, girl; You'll never come again. Feelings, feelings like I've Never lost you And feelings like I've never have you Again in my life. Feelings, wo-o-o feelings, Wo-o-o, feelings again in my arms. Feelings...

You do understand what I mean!” he exclaimed, pleased to see Maude responding to his song. “I chose Nina Simone to show you something else. Just like you, Nina Simone had a classical background. When she was younger, she wanted to become a concert pianist. Her skill was beyond measure and she used it in a wide repertoire of jazz, blues, and R&B songs. And I think you can do the same. Music knows no limits and I truly understand why James insisted on signing you, Maude.” Maude remained silent, still thinking about his rendition of Nina Simone. “All you have to do is dig deeper. Try finding some suffering in you. Don’t sing the Cenerentola with a smile. Although you look like a girl who’s had it all. You know, the nice girl from the North of France, who grew up in a quiet, small town with her loving mom and dad and brothers and sisters, always top of her class, quick-tempered when things didn’t go her way. A bit spoiled, I guess. You have to put all that—” “Spoiled?” Maude blurted in utter disbelief, the word echoing through her mind. Of all the things he could’ve said about her, spoiled was the last word that could have appeared remotely appropriate to describe her. As for suffering, she’d had plenty of that, too, which is why she didn’t want to think about it. Not while she was so happy in New York and Carvin and the Ruchets were the last thing she wanted in her head. She painfully pushed the Ruchets away from her mind and turned to Matt, eyes flaring up again. “You know nothing about me, Matt,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion. “And you obviously know nothing about suffering, or you wouldn’t idealize it the way that you do. You see it as a romantic notion that seemingly gives depth to songwriting. And it does. Not because the singers actually thought of woe in a purely aesthetic way, but because that’s how they actually lived. You will never understand that,” she finished, trembling from head to toe. And with that, she grabbed her bag, coat, gloves, scarf, and stormed out of Matt’s Creation Room, slamming the door behind her.

You have to learn to get up from the table when love is no longer being served.” -Nina Simone

And when we pressed our heads to each other's hearts how did we not hear Carmen McRae singing? In Angela's fisted hands, Billie Holiday staggered past us and we didn't know her name. Nina Simone told us how beautiful we were and we didn't hear her voice.

For all we know This may only be a dream An old Nina Simone song.

You can’t help it. An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times. —Nina Simone

Alison Krauss, Lauryn Hill, Norah Jones. She added vintage Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Carole King. She rounded it out with some edge: Fiona Apple, Courtney Love, Alanis Morissette.

women who blame other women for their problems have their own deficiencies to deal with.

But God doesn’t want you to get married.” “God doesn’t want me to get married?” Miss Gigi nodded. “God wants you to be happy. How’s a husband going to help with that?

with

waving her arms like an air traffic controller.

Some people trusted the universe to take care of them. And then there were people like Jack who took care of themselves.

Before he died, my father told me it takes a man forty years to learn how to listen to women. To take seriously their power, how ruthless they can be.

unexpected compliments were usually followed by unreasonable requests.

Gary Taubes, Why We Get Fat: And What to Do About It (New York: Anchor Books, 2010). For an expanded discussion of Taubes’s arguments, see Good Calories, Bad Calories: Fats, Carbs, and the Controversial Science of Diet and Health (New York: Anchor Books, 2008). It includes a helpful summary of Taubes’s conclusions (p. 454): 1. Dietary fat, whether saturated or not, is not a cause of obesity, heart disease, or any other chronic disease of civilization. 2. The problem is the carbohydrates in the diet, their effect on insulin secretion, and thus the hormonal regulation of homeostasis—the entire harmonic ensemble of the human body. The more easily digestible and refined the carbohydrates, the greater the effect on our health, weight, and well-being. 3. Sugars—sucrose and high-fructose corn syrup, specifically—are particularly harmful, probably because the combination of fructose and glucose simultaneously elevates insulin levels while overloading the liver with carbohydrates. 4. Through their direct effect on insulin and blood sugar, refined carbohydrates, starches, and sugars are the dietary cause of coronary heart disease and diabetes. They are the most likely dietary causes of cancer, Alzheimer’s disease, and the other chronic diseases of civilization. 5. Obesity is a disorder of excess fat accumulation, not overeating, and not sedentary behavior. 6. Consuming excess calories does not cause us to grow fatter, any more than it causes a child to grow taller. Expending more energy than we consume does not lead to long-term weight loss; it leads to hunger. 7. Fattening and obesity are caused by an imbalance—a disequilibrium—in the hormonal regulation of adipose tissue and fat metabolism. Fat synthesis and storage exceed the mobilization of fat from the adipose tissue and its subsequent oxidation. We become leaner when the hormonal regulation of the fat tissue reverses this balance. 8. Insulin is the primary regulator of fat storage. When insulin levels are elevated—either chronically or after a meal—we accumulate fat in our fat tissue. When insulin levels fall, we release fat from our fat tissue and use it for fuel. 9. By stimulating insulin secretion, carbohydrates make us fat and ultimately cause obesity. The fewer carbohydrates we consume, the leaner we will be. 10. By driving fat accumulation, carbohydrates also increase hunger and decrease the amount of energy we expend in metabolism and physical activity. For a fascinating discussion of the role of fat in a healthy diet, see also Nina Teicholz, The Big Fat Surprise: Why Butter, Meat and Cheese Belong in a Healthy Diet (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2014).

Nina Simone’s playing in the background today, but she’s not what’s putting jazz in my blood. It’s the thought of seeing Dave tonight. I’ve got little skipping beats in me. Whenever I check the clock, it’s ticking backward.

To Love Somebody" There' a light A certain kind of light It's never shown on me I want my whole life to be Lived with you Lived with you There's a way Everybody say Do each and every little thing What good does it bring If I ain't got you If I ain't got you If I ain't got you If I ain't got you You don't know What it's like Baby you don't know What it's like To love somebody To love somebody The way I love you In my brain See your face again I know my frame of mind You ain't got to be so blind And I'm blind so blind But I'm a woman Can't you see what I am I live and breathe for you What good does it do If I ain't got you If I ain't got you If I ain't got you If I ain't got you Say you don't know What it's like Baby you don't know what it's like To love somebody To love somebody The way I love you Oh'a, you don't know What it's like Baby you don't know What it's like To love somebody To love somebody The way I love you

The Warburg family is the most important ally of the Rothschilds, and the history of this family is at least equally interesting. The book The Warburgs shows that the bloodline of this family dates back to the year 1001.[28] Whilst fleeing from the Muslims, they established themselves in Spain. There they were pursued by Fernando of Aragon and Isabella of Castile and moved to Lombardy. According to the annals of the city of Warburg, in 1559, Simon von Cassel was entitled to establish himself in this city in Westphalia, and he changed his surname to Warburg. The city register proves that he was a banker and a trader. The real banking tradition was beginning to take shape when three generations later Jacob Samuel Warburg immigrated to Altona in 1668. His grandson Markus Gumprich Warburg moved to Hamburg in 1774, where his two sons founded the well-known bank Warburg & Co. in 1798. With the passage of time, this bank did business throughout the entire world. By 1814, Warburg & Co had business relations with the Rothschilds in London. According to Joseph Wechsberg in his book The Merchant Bankers, the Warburgs regarded themselves equal to the Rothschild, Oppenheimer and Mendelsohn families.[29] These families regularly met in Paris, London and Berlin. It was an unwritten rule that these families let their descendants marry amongst themselves. The Warburgs married, just like the Rothschilds, within houses (bloodlines). That’s how this family got themselves involved with the prosperous banking family Gunzberg from St. Petersburg, with the Rosenbergs from Kiev, with the Oppenheims and Goldschmidts from Germany, with the Oppenheimers from South Africa and with the Schiffs from the United States.[30] The best-known Warburgs were Max Warburg (1867-1946), Paul Warburg (1868-1932) and Felix Warburg (1871-1937). Max Warburg served his apprenticeship with the Rothschilds in London, where he asserted himself as an expert in the field of international finances. Furthermore, he occupied himself intensively with politics and, since 1903, regularly met with the German minister of finance. Max Warburg advised, at the request of monarch Bernhard von Bülow, the German emperor on financial affairs. Additionally, he was head of the secret service. Five days after the armistice of November 11, 1918 he was delegated by the German government as a peace negotiator at a peace committee in Versailles. Max Warburg was also one of the directors of the Deutsche Reichsbank and had financial importances in the war between Japan and Russia and in the Moroccan crisis of 1911. Felix Warburg was familiarized with the diamond trade by his uncle, the well-known banker Oppenheim. He married Frieda Schiff and settled in New York. By marrying Schiff’s daughter he became partner at Kuhn, Loeb & Co. Paul Warburg became acquainted with the youngest daughter of banker Salomon Loeb, Nina. It didn’t take long before they married. Paul Warburg left Germany and also became a partner with Kuhn, Loeb & Co. in New York. During the First World War he was a member of the Federal Reserve Board, and in that position he had a controlling influence on the development of American financial policies. As a financial expert, he was often consulted by the government. The Warburgs invested millions of dollars in various projects which all served one purpose: one absolute world government. That’s how the war of Japan against Russia (1904-1905) was financed by the Warburgs bank Kuhn, Loeb & Co.[31] The purpose of this war was destroying the csardom. As said before, in testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, James P. Warburg said: “We shall have a world government, whether or not we like it. The question is only whether world government

So I don't think you have a choice, how can you be an artist and not reflect the times. That to me is the definition of an artist.

I’ll tell you what freedom is to me: no fear Nina Simone

You see, the music always goes to my head. So the more I play, the less I can relax.

it was always worth making men want more than they could get.

It was disappointing when a powerful woman showed weakness.

De hand op de matras, deed de Zon rijzen.

Instead of focusing, in the style of the “neural correlates of consciousness” (NCC) approach, on a single exemplary conscious experience—like the experience of “seeing the color red”—Tononi and Edelman asked what was characteristic about conscious experiences in general. They made a simple but profound observation: that conscious experiences—all conscious experiences—are both informative and integrated. From this starting point, they made claims about the neural basis of every conscious experience, not just of specific experiences of seeing red, or feeling jealous, or suffering a toothache. The idea of consciousness as simultaneously informative and integrated needs a little unpacking. Let’s start with information. What does it mean to say that conscious experiences are “informative”? Edelman and Tononi did not mean this in the sense that reading a newspaper can be informative, but in a sense that, though it might at first seem trivial, conceals a great deal of richness. Conscious experiences are informative because every conscious experience is different from every other conscious experience that you have ever had, ever will have, or ever could have. Looking past the desk in front of me through the window beyond, I have never before experienced precisely this configuration of coffee cups, computer monitors, and clouds—an experience that is even more distinctive when combined with all the other perceptions, emotions, and thoughts that are simultaneously present in the background of my inner universe. At any one time, we have precisely one conscious experience out of vastly many possible conscious experiences. Every conscious experience therefore delivers a massive reduction of uncertainty, since this experience is being had, and not that experience, or that experience, and so on. And reduction of uncertainty is—mathematically—what is meant by “information.” The informativeness of a particular conscious experience is not a function of how rich or detailed it is, or of how enlightening it is to the person having that experience. Listening to Nina Simone while eating strawberries on a roller coaster rules out just as many alternative experiences as does sitting with eyes closed in a silent room, experiencing close to nothing. Each experience reduces uncertainty with respect to the range of possible experiences by the same amount. In this view, the “what-it-is-like-ness” of any specific conscious experience is defined not so much by what it is, but by all the unrealized but possible things that it is not. An experience of pure redness is the way that it is, not because of any intrinsic property of “redness,” but because red is not blue, green, or any other color, or any smell, or a thought or a feeling of regret or indeed any other form of mental content whatsoever. Redness is redness because of all the things it isn’t, and the same goes for all other conscious experiences.

Let’s get out of here,” Lana said. “If we’re going to make progress, we need decent coffee.

it was barbaric and capitalist and beautiful all at once.

Please,” she said. “Not everything is about racism or discrimination. This is just good old-fashioned incompetence.

Lana figured this must be what being dead was like. No one asking her for anything.

There was silence on the line, and Lana caught a whiff of the familiar scent of a man aroused by his own confusion.

But if there’s one thing I learned as a teenager with a broken heart, it was that my emotions are not a reliable basis for anything. My feelings change all the time, mostly at the mercy of the weather, espresso, and Nina Simone.

Lana was glad her granddaughter had not yet been so thoroughly let down by a man that she wanted to kill him.

To be a human who resembles the divine is to become responsible for the beautiful, for its observance, its protection, and its creation. It is a challenge to believe that this right is ours. Wonder, then, is a force of liberation. It makes sense of what our souls inherently know we were meant for. Every mundane glimpse is salve on a wound, instructions for how to set the bone right again. If you really want to get free, find God on the subway. Find God in the soap bubble. Me? I meet God in the taste of my gramma's chicken. I hear God in the raspy leather of Nina Simone's voice. I see the face of God in the bony teenager bagging my groceries. And why shouldn't I? My faith is held together by wonder—by every defiant commitment to presence and paying attention. I cannot tell you with precision what makes the sun set, but I can tell you how those colors, blurred together, calm my head and change my breath. I will die knowing I lived a faith that changed my breathing. A faith that made me believe I could see air.

You are the bravest child I’ve ever seen in my life, no wonder that you are Nina’s daughter and Freya’s sister.

Maybe the wine went to my head. Maybe the weeks of battling the press had worn me down. For some reason, when the conversation took an unexpected turn, I became touchy. Then angry. Disproportionately, sloppily angry. Meg said something I took the wrong way. It was partly a cultural difference, partly a language barrier, but I was also just over-sensitive that night. I thought: Why’s she having a go at me? I snapped at her, spoke to her harshly—cruelly. As the words left my mouth, I could feel everything in the room come to a stop. The gravy stopped bubbling, the molecules of air stopped orbiting. Even Nina Simone seemed to pause. Meg walked out of the room, disappearing for a full fifteen minutes. I went and found her upstairs. She was sitting in the bedroom. She was calm, but said in a quiet, level tone that she would never stand for being spoken to like that. I nodded. She wanted to know where it came from. I don’t know. Where did you ever hear a man speak like that to a woman? Did you overhear adults speak that way when you were growing up? I cleared my throat, looked away. Yes. She wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of partner. Or co-parent. That kind of life. She wasn’t going to raise children in an atmosphere of anger or disrespect. She laid it all out, super-clear. We both knew my anger hadn’t been caused by anything to do with our conversation. It came from somewhere deep inside, somewhere that needed to be excavated, and it was obvious that I could use some help with the job.

woman of exile and love you. were never afraid of being radical or becoming a full time student of human rights you. sacred. you. not tired. you. destiny driven. you. kathleen cleaver you. evelyn lowery you. juanita abernathy you. elaine brown you. power seekers you. goddess you. sojourner you. you. mariam makeba you. fire starter. you. nina simone you. international you. sister. you. mama africa

she more and more avoided the books he liked. But he had not recommended it, he had merely left it on the shelf, next to a pile of other books he had finished but meant to go back to. She read Dreams from My Father in a day and a half, sitting up on the couch, Nina Simone playing on Blaine’s iPod speaker. She was absorbed and moved by the man she met in those pages, an inquiring and intelligent man, a kind man, a man so utterly, helplessly, winningly humane.

— Mas o segredo mais importante de todos e que só serve para você é: você precisa aprender a sair da mesa quando o amor já não está mais sendo servido — parafraseio Nina Simone.

Nina Simone wafted into the room. Cohen had queued up what I thought of as his deep-thinking playlist and piped it through the built-in sound system. I loved the great women of jazz. Simone, Holiday, Vaughan.

For Nina Simone The trembling Water of your voice Is a baptism

We all listened to and loved the Stones, the Beatles, Cat Stevens, Nina Simone, Neil Young, Bonnie Raitt, Aretha, sixties Motown, Andreas