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❝She hardly ever thought of him. He had worn a place for himself in some corner of her heart, as a sea shell, always boring against the rock, might do. The making of the place had been her pain. But now the shell was safely in the rock. It was lodged, and ground no longer.❞

bookmarks:
listography GIVE MEMORIES
TERMS
FAVORITE LISTOGRAPHY MENTIONS
IMPORTANT NOTICES
MESSAGES
  • Before Freedom by Belinda Hurmence
  • Clotel by William Wells Brown
  • My Folks Don't Want Me To Talk About Slavery by Belinda Hurmence
  • Narrative of the Life by Frederick Douglass
  • Our Nig by Harriet E. Wilson
  • To Be A Slave by Julius Lester
  • Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
  • Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington
feb 23 2013 ∞
sep 21 2014 +