“I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.”

“As they walked through the bright noon, up the sandy road with the dispersing congregation talking easily again group to group, she continued to weep, unmindful of the talk. "He sho a preacher, mon!! He didn't look like much at first, but hush!" "He seed de power en de glory." "Yes, suh. He seed hit. Face to face he seed hit." Dilsey made no sound, her face did not quiver as the tears took their sunken and devious courses, walking with her head up, making no effort to dry them away even. "Whyn't you quit dat, mammy?" Frony said. "Wid all dese people lookin. We be passin white folks soon." "I've seed de first en de last," Dilsey said. "Never you mind me." "First en last whut?" Frony said. "Never you mind," Dilsey said. "I seed de beginnin, en now I sees de endin.”

“...no man can cause more grief than the one clinging blindly to the vices of his ancesters.”

“One day I was talking to Cora. She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.”

“...like old married people who no longer have anything in common, to do or to talk about, save the same general weight of air to displace and breathe and general oblivious biding earth to bear their weight...”

“He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn't need a word for that any more than for pride or fear....One day I was talking to Cora. She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.”

“When I have one martini, I feel bigger, wiser, taller. When I have a second, I feel superlative. When I have more, there's no holding me.”