Cesária Évora

(Mindelo, 27 de agosto de 1941 – Mindelo, 17 de dezembro de 2011

[...] her mother lay with her gray hair - what was left of it - sticking out on the pillow, and she was a tiny as a person could be and still be alive. It was as though her mother had been in a science fiction movie and that her body - her essence - had been snatched. When her mother's eyes flipped open, Suzanne had said, "It's me, Mom, Suzanne," and her mother had sat up and said, "Hello." And when Suzanne repeated to her, "Mom, it's me, your daughter," her mother said pleasantly, "No, my daughter is dead." Then her mother had sung a lullaby as she rocked Snuggles, and she was still doing that when Suzanne left.

Now, as Suzanne entered the room, she had to walk by another woman seated in a wheelchair not far from her mother; [...]

Her mother sat serenely in her wheelchair in the corner of her room, with Snuggles on her lap. Her hair had been combed, and she wore a sweatsuit of pale off-white, on her feet were clean white sneakers. "Hello," she said to Suzanne. "You're a pretty woman. Who are you?"

"I'm your daughter, Mom. It's me, Suzanne."

Her mother said politely, "I don't have a daughter. She died. But when she was a little girl, she had this." And her mother held up Snuggles. "His name is Snuggles," her mother said.

"Mom, you remember this was Snuggles?" Suzanne leaned down toward her mother.

"I don't know who you are," her mother continued, "but my poor little daughter. She was always such a good girl." [...]

"But her brother!" And her mother laughed then. "Oh, her brother was a nasty little boy." [...]

Chills ran down Suzanne's side [...] "Doyle?" she finally asked.

Her mother's face remained uncomprehending, until suddenly it became twisted in fury. "You get out of here right now! Get out! Get out!" Spittle flew from her mouth.

And then the other woman seated in her wheelchair began to cry. It was a terrible sound [...] Suzanne stood up [...] "Help me, please," she said to an aide going by. "I've upset my mother and also some woman who was in here [...]

The aide was a small young woman, with no expression on her face, and she said to Suzanne, "I'll be there in a minute."

"Please come in now," said Suzanne, but the aide was already going into the room next door. "Oh God," said Suzanne. She went back into her mother's room [...] and her mother was half standing out of her chair. She pointed her arm at Suzanne. "You! Get out of here right now!"

Elizabeth Strout – Olive, Again (2019)
Penguin Random House UK (2019)

«Esta menina não sabe nada da vida. [...] O que tarde se aprende não traz experiência, traz desilusão».

Agustina Bessa-Luís – Fanny Owen (1979)

Colecção Mil Folhas / Bibliotex SL / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)

- Ah, as mulheres! Na guerra são os melhores homens e na paz os piores inimigos.

- O senhor acha que os homens lutam por elas? [...]

- Não. Eu acho que eles fazem a guerra para evitar o amor. 

Agustina Bessa-Luís – Fanny Owen (1979)

Colecção Mil Folhas / Bibliotex SL / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)

Todos nós precisamos de qualquer coisa que nos ligue ao passado e ajude a acreditar que de certa maneira talvez tenhamos sido felizes

António Lobo Antunes – O Tamanho do Mundo (2022)

Publicações Dom Quixote (2022)

Amy loved her mother, but she was not close to her. The things that happen in childhood do not go away.

"I love my grandson," Isabelle was saying. "Oh, I do, but he's not really a part of my life."

Elizabeth Strout – Olive, Again (2019)
Penguin Random House UK (2019)

«À força de levantar cedo», pensou, «tornamo-nos completamente estúpidos.[...]»

Franz Kafka – A Metamorfose (1915)
Coleção Mil Folhas PÚBLICO (2002)

Assim que começou a limpar o Parlamento - há tantos anos que já nem se lembra -, depois de ter trabalhado num lar, a mulher de cabelos cinzentos a denunciar mais de meio século de vida pensou em despedir-se logo no primeiro mês. O motivo era simples: de tão grande que é a Assembleia da República, Feliciana Afonso sentia medo só de pensar que tinha de se deslocar de uns sítios para os outros sem saber o caminho. O tempo fez questão de lhe ensinar os percursos e as contas para pagar ao final do mês acabaram por pesar mais do que qualquer insegurança. [...]

Durante a pandemia, deixou de se preocupar com as incertezas. Nunca se preocupou muito com o futuro, agora ainda menos. Fechou os olhos e teve «fé em Deus». Só.

Se tiver de ter tenho, se não tiver de ter não tenho. Mesmo quando estava no centro de dia não tinha medo de nada. Sou uma mulher de trabalho e não temos de ter medo de nada. Não, não. Nem é por limpar o chão que sou menos que os outros. Olhe, tanto me pega a mim, como ao senhor primeiro-ministro. 

Rita Pereira Carvalho  – As Invisíveis, Histórias sobre o trabalho de limpeza (2022)

Fundação Francisco Manuel dos Santos, Rita Pereira Carvalho (2022)

"People live with things," Bernie said. "They do. I am always amazed at what people live with."

Elizabeth Strout – Olive, Again (2019)
Penguin Random House UK (2019)

Pior do que a injustiça, só a imoralidade, senhor. E então vinda de quem se preocupava tanto com a caridadezinha... 

João de Melo – Gente Feliz Com Lágrimas (1988)

Colecção Mil Folhas / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)