Sometimes the right thing felt all wrong until it was over and done with.

Who could blame the citizens of Massachusetts for rejoicing when spring is so close at hand? Winter in New England is merciless and cruel, a season that instills a particular melancholy in its residents and a hopelessness that is all but impossible to shake.

Fate is what you make of it. You can make the best of it, or you can let it make the best of you.

let us be among those who hope that the future will be less cruel than the past.

Loss does different things to different people. Some fall apart. Some, like the Finder, rebuild. I have done both. I have crawled under my table and refused to come out. I have covered myself with thorns and tattoos. I have planted a garden, reached out to my neighbors, begun to write down my story.

It was best to step into the future while it was still waiting for you.

The future was spun from moments like this. If she backed away, it might all unravel.

I'm pore, I'm black, I may be ugly and can't cook, a voice say to everything listening. But I'm here.

He recognized her immediately when he saw her again. And what he recognized was her energy, which seemed to precede her. As if her spirit were thrusting itself forward, into the unknown; dazzled, charmed, challenged, hopeful, happy to be energized by the mysterious, loving the adrenaline rush of surprise.

Because you are who you are, the future look happy and bright.

You are always moving toward your fate, in life.

One day she say to me, Well, Miss Celie, I believe it time for me to go. When? I ast. Early next month, she say. June. June a good time to go off into the world.