Zaddy Quotes

Grace began to understand. "I have friends," she protested. "I have Zaddie." "Zaddie is just a little colored girl," Mary-Love pointed out. "It's all right to play with Zaddie, but she's not your real friend. John Robert can be your real little friend.

Is Zaddie Sapp deformed because she was born with black skin?” “Of course not—” “Are Grace and Lucille deformed because they have given up men and live out at Gavin Pond Farm together?” “No, Mama, that’s not—” “That’s how they were born, darling! Zaddie was born with black skin and Grace Caskey was born to dote on girls, and just because they’re different, do you think Creola Sapp should have said, ‘I’m not going to give birth to this child’? Do you think Genevieve and James should have said, ‘We don’t want a little baby if she’s not going to grow up to be just like everybody else in this town’?

A Zaddy is a hot, intelligent older man who knows how to handle business inside and outside the bedroom. A little dominant. A little naughty. Makes you wet just thinking about him, and you low-key want to have his baby.

Even the servants seemed to have been affected by the Caskey women’s assumption of power. Zaddie, Ivey, Roxie, and Luvadia did and said what they saw fit to do and say.

The issue I have with people who say they love me… Is that I don’t feel loved by them. Their love often seems more like opportunism to me or masked usery. Am not saying this man don’t love me or rate me. I don’t feel that love. I don’t feel loved by him… I am not saying a family member don’t love me or isn’t a good person or hasn’t been good to me… I am just saying that this person they project or profess to be… Is someone I have never experienced… Yes you are this great person to other people… The thing is… I don’t know that person. I’ve never experienced that person and those I reserve the right to feel the way I feel about you as a person and this experience… It also can’t be love if standing up for myself makes you hate me. Love would have led to empathy and not feelings of umbrage. “You know I love you” You can say I love you. But I don’t feel loved by you… Your love means nothing to me if I don’t feel or experience it. Selah.

got that good-good for you, zaddy. We gone be swinging from the ceiling tonight!” I looked over at her crazy ass and burst out laughing.

Don’t bite the apple, Eve,” replayed in my head like a broken record, but the peach standing before me was too ripe not to taste. 

E la casa aveva anche un odore particolare, un misto della sabbia cotta dal sole che la circondava, dell'argilla rossa dell'argine, del Perdido che scorreva oltre il terrapieno, dell'umidità trattenuta dalle mura spesse e dalle stanze grandi e buie, dei cibi preparati da Zaddie in cucina, e di qualcosa che era arrivato quand'era vuota e non se n'era mai andato. Persino nei mesi di siccità, quando i raccolti avvizzivano nei campi e gli alberi delle foreste erano cosí secchi che bastava un fulmine per ridurre in cenere ettari di bosco in cinque minuti, la casa conservava quella nota di acqua di fiume, tanto che le tappezzerie sembravano umide al tatto, le buste nuove si incollavano da sole e l'impasto delle crostate lievitava male. Era come se l'intera casa fosse avviluppata in una foschia invisibile salita dal Perdido.

Fuck Anthony ole geriatric ass! You need to forget about paw paw and get with your zaddy. Trust me, it will be well worth it.” “How

I'm not good at speaking about myself as much as I'm not good at speaking about others, because I can't tell how many things I hate about myself and I can't tell how many things I love about who I know.

لايُعنَى بالمغرب بلدٌ، بل كلٌ من على الارضِ منَ البُلدان مغربٌ، فبلدُك للمشرِق مغربُها، وبلاد مَشرِق الشمس مغربٌ للعمِّ، وبلاد العم مغربٌ للعجوزِ ودَوَالَيْك، والعِلمُ كلُّه لله

Ce que Sister gardait pour elle en cet instant n'était pas tant un secret qu'une opinion, et cette opinion concernait Elinor Dammert. Sister avait la conviction que c'était une jeune femme puissante, et que le pouvoir qu'elle exerçait était comparable à celui de Mary-Love. Elinor Dammert mettait les choses en ordre. Elle les arrangeait. Elle les remettait d'aplomb. Elle sélectionnait des personnes et les disposait à sa convenance, comme un enfant place des figurines dans une arche de Noé. Sister se représentait James tel un pion en bois, mais grandeur nature. Dans sa tête, elle le voyait fixé sur un socle. Elle voyait Grace de la même façon mais en beaucoup plus petite. Zaddie était peinte en noir, Oscar avait un large sourire. Et, toujours dans l'imagination de Sister, Elinor Dammert passait ses bras autour de la taille de ces statues, les soulevait, les déplaçait à l'endroit qu'elle voulait, puis les reposait. Là, elles vacillaient légèrement, mais restaient en place.