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What is my nature, then? For in isolation I am all purpose and industry and determination and prudence, as if I were the single survivor of a species whose evolutionary history can be traced to the most ancient of ancients; in isolation I ruthlessly plow the deep silences, seeking my opportunities like a miner seeking veins of treasure. In what shallow glimmering space shall I find what glimmering glory? The stark, stony mountainous surface is turned to green, rolling meadow, and a spring of clear water, its origins a mystery, its purpose and beauty constant, draws all manner of troubled existence seeking solace. And again and again, the heart – buried deeply as ever in the human breast, its four chambers exposed to love and joy and pain and the small shafts that fall with desperation in between.

— At the Bottom of the River by Jamaica Kincaid (Page 48)

[…]; this is how to bully a man; this is how a man bullies you; this is how to love a man, and if it doesn’t work there are other ways, and if they don’t work don’t feel too bad about giving up; […]

— At the Bottom of the River by Jamaica Kincaid (Page 5)