“She was partial to the tie. Not too long ago he did unspeakable things to her with that tie.”

“How was she to tie herself to a man without permitting him to imprison her? And was there some means of acquiring things without those things possessing her?”

“Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.”

“But to secure freedom, entire and absolute freedom, she was ever ready to make any sacrifice: ties affected her with a discomfort that seemed really akin to physical pain, and she avoided them--ties of family or of affection, ties of habit or of thought--with all the strenuousness of which she was capable.”

“If a Negro got legs he ought to use them. Sit down too long, somebody will figure out a way to tie them up.”

“Her heart did not want to give up this burden, painful though it was ... The crushing pain in her chest was all she had to tie her to them until they were together again.”