6
" When I met a truly beautiful girl, I would tell her that if she spent the night with me, I would write a novel or a story about her. This usually worked; and if her name was to be in the title of the story, it almost always worked. Then, later, when we'd passed a night of delicious love-making together, after she’d gone and I’d felt that feeling of happiness mixed with sorrow, I sometimes would write a book or story about her. Sometimes her character, her way about herself, her love-making, it sometimes marked me so heavily that I couldn't go on in life and be happy unless I wrote a book or a story about that woman, the happy and sad memory of that woman. That was the only way to keep her, and to say goodbye to her without her ever leaving. "
― Roman Payne
7
" You'll want all your strength for the wedding night." I cannot think why I should need strength," she said, ignoring a host of spine-tingling images rising in her mind's eye. " All I have to do is lie there." " Naked," he said grimly. " Truly?" She shot him a glance from under her lashes. " Well, if I must, I must, for you have the advantage of experience in these matters. Still, I do wish you'd told me sooner. I should not have put the modiste to so much trouble about the negligee." " The what?" " It was ghastly expensive," she said, " but the silk is as fine as gossamer, and the eyelet work about the neckline is exquisite. Aunt Louisa was horrified. She said only Cyprians wear such things, and it leaves nothing to the imagination." Jessica heard him suck in his breath, felt the muscular thigh tense against hers. " But if it were left to Aunt Louisa," she went on," I should be covered from my chin to my toes in thick cotton ruffled with monstrosities with little bows and rosebuds. Which is absurd, when an evening gown reveals far more, not to mention--" " What color?" he asked. His low voice had roughened. " Wine red," she said, " With narrow black ribbons threaded through the neckline. Here." She traced a plunging U over her bosom. " And there's the loveliest openwork over my...well, here." She drew her finger over the curve of her breast a bare inch above the nipple. " And openwork on the right side of the skirt. From here" --she pointed to her hip--" down to the hem. And I bought---" " Jess." Her name was a strangled whisper. " --slippers to match," she continued." Black mules with--" " Jess." In one furious flurry of motion he threw down the reins and hauled her into his lap. "
10
" From her thighs, she gives you life
And how you treat she who gives you life
Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator.
And from seed to dust
There is ONE soul above all others --
That you must always show patience, respect, and trust
And this woman is your mother.
And when your soul departs your body
And your deeds are weighed against the feather
There is only one soul who can save yours
And this woman is your mother.
And when the heart of the universe
Asks her hair and mind,
Whether you were gentle and kind to her
Her heart will be forced to remain silent
And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity,
Very much like the seaweed in the sea --
It will reveal all that it has heard and seen.
This woman whose heart has seen yours,
First before anybody else in the world,
And whose womb had opened the door
For your eyes to experience light and more --
Is your very own MOTHER.
So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel,
Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish
How you treat her is the ultimate test.
If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way
With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness.
And always remember,
That the queen in the Creator's kingdom,
Who sits on the throne of all existence,
Is exactly the same as in yours.
And her name is,
THE DIVINE MOTHER. "
― , Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
12
" Now and again, one could detect in a childless woman of a certain age the various characteristics of all the children she had never issued. Her body was haunted by the ghost of souls who hadn't lived yet. Premature ghosts. Half-ghosts. X's without Y's. Y's without X's. They applied at her womb and were denied, but, meant for her and no one else, they wouldn't go away. Like tiny ectoplasmic gophers, they hunkered in her tear ducts. They shone through her sighs. Often to her chagrin, they would soften the voice she used in the marketplace. When she spilled wine, it was their playful antics that jostled the glass. They called out her name in the bath or when she passed real children in the street. The spirit babies were everywhere her companions, and everywhere they left her lonesome - yet they no more bore her resentment than a seed resents uneaten fruit. Like pet gnats, like phosphorescence, like sighs on a string, they would follow her into eternity. "
― Tom Robbins , Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates
14
" Um, thanks,” Jackson told her. “And your name is…?”“I’m Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf,” she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached.“Van Der Graaf?” Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn’t want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but… Van Der Graaf?“What are you laughing at?” Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. “I like my name. If you’re going to be a jerk, then I won’t help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care.”“…Harsh,” said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something ‘off’ about her, something that Jackson couldn’t quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. “Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?” He couldn’t resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. “Who else lives here?” he urged.“Me, myself and I,” said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression "
17
" KINGDOM OF THE WOMB
From her thighs, she gives you life
And how you treat she who gives you life
Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator.
And from seed to dust
There is ONE soul above all others --
That you must always show patience, respect, and trust
And this woman is your mother.
And when your soul departs your body
And your deeds are weighed against the feather
There is only one soul who can save yours
And this woman is your mother.
And when the heart of the universe
Asks her hair and mind,
Whether you were gentle and kind to her
Her heart will be forced to remain silent
And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity,
Very much like the seaweed in the sea --
It will reveal all that it has heard and seen.
This woman whose heart has seen yours,
First before anybody else in the world,
And whose womb had opened the door
For your eyes to experience light and more --
Is your very own MOTHER.
So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel,
Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish
How you treat her is the ultimate test.
If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way
With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness.
And always remember,
That the queen in the Creator's kingdom,
Who sits on the throne of all existence,
Is exactly the same as in yours.
And her name is,
THE DIVINE MOTHER. "
― , Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
18
" So what's your doll's name?" Boo asked me." Barbie," I said. " All their names are Barbie." " I see," she said. " Well, I'd think that would get boring, everyone having the samename." I thought about this, then said, " Okay, then her name is Sabrina." " Well, that's a very nice name," Boo said. I remember she was baking bread,kneading the doughbetween her thick fingers. " What does she do?" " Do?" I said." Yes." She flipped the dough over and started in on it from the other side. " Whatdoes she do?" " She goes out with Ken," I said." And what else?" " She goes to parties," I said slowly. " And shopping." " Oh," Boo said, nodding." She can't work?" " She doesn't have to work," I said." Why not?" " Because she's Barbie." " I hate to tell you, Caitlin, but somebody has to make payments on that town houseand the Corvette," Boo said cheerfully. " Unless Barbie has a lot of family money." I considered this while I put on Ken's pants.Boo started pushing the dough into a pan, smoothing it with her hand over the top." You know what Ithink, Caitlin?" Her voice was soft and nice, the way she always spoke to me." What?" " I think your Barbie can go shopping, and go out with Ken, and also have aproductive and satisfyingcareer of her own." She opened the oven and slid in the bread pan, adjusting itsposition on the rack." But what can she do?" My mother didn't work and spent her time cleaning thehouse and going to PTA.I couldn't imagine Barbie, whose most casual outfit had sequins and go-go boots,doing s.uch things.Boo came over and plopped right down beside me. I always rememberher being on my level; she'd siton the edge of the sandbox, or lie across her bed with me and Cass as we listened tothe radio." Well," she said thoughtfully, picking up Ken and examining his perfect physique." What do you want todo when you grow up?" I remember this moment so well; I can still see Boo sitting there on the floor, cross-legged, holding myKen and watching my face as she tried to make me see that between my mother'sPTA and Boo'sstrange ways there was a middle ground that began here with my Barbie, Sab-rina,and led right to me." Well," I said abruptly, " I want to be in advertising." I have no idea where this camefrom." Advertising," Boo repeated, nodding. " Okay. Advertising it is. So Sabrina has to goto work every day,coming up with ideas for commercialsand things like that." " She works in an office," I went on. " Sometimes she has to work late." " Sure she does," Boo said. " It's hard to get ahead. Even if you're Barbie." " Because she wants to get promoted," I added. " So she can pay off the town house.And the Corvette." " Very responsible of her," Boo said." Can she be divorced?" I asked. " And famous for her commercialsand ideas?" " She can be anything," Boo told me, and this is what I remember most, her freckledface so solemn, as ifshe knew she was the first to tell me. " And so can you. "
