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She had gambled with marriage, just like most people, but she had gambled unluckily and had lost.

She did not delude herself into expecting Francis to love her. He had never been taught how to love, but had an arresting way of looking pleased at Adah's achievements.

Did she not feel totally fulfilled when she had completed the manuscript, just as if it were another baby she had had?

The fear of everybody was that the man might give in and say, "After all, it's her life." However a thing like that is not permitted in Nigeria; you are simply not allowed to commit suicide in peace, because everyone is responsible for the other person. Foreigners may call us a nation of busybodies, but to us, an individual's life belongs to the community and not just to him or her.

Her children were going to be different. They were all going to be black, they were going to enjoy being black, be proud of being black, a black of a different breed.

The concept of whiteness could cover a multitude of sins.

Dreams soon assume substance

God, when will you create a woman who will be fulfilled in herself, a full human being, not anybody's appendage? ... when will I be free?

The more I think about it, the more I realize that we, women, set impossible models for ourselves. That we make life intolerable for each other. I can't live up to our role models, older wife. That’s why I need to create my own.

She, who only a few months previously would have accepted nothing but the best, had by now been conditioned to expect inferior things. She was now learning to suspect anything beautiful and pure. Those things were for the whites, not the blacks.

Lack of imagination also indicates lack of commitment for figuring it out.

No one ever asks, but you’re here. You’re here when so many people aren’t!” Roën grabs his head as if he could pull out his hair. “You survived the Raid. The guards. You survived the wrath of a king. You’re not a victim, Zélie. You’re a survivor! Stop running away!”