Joy McCullough Quotes

And listen to me love, when a woman risks her place, her very life to speak a truth the world despises? Believe her. Always.

But there are many things a woman never sees until she's joined unto a man.

I was no soldier, only girl
without a mother
or the sense to understand
this world without her.

But that day's not now.
And even if this horror
becomes an accent color -
a smudge of lead white
to highlight a cheekbone,
a bit of yellow ochre
the glint on a sword -
sometimes those are the pigments
that change one's perecption
of an entire work of art.

Any man who breathes has more power than a woman in her world – and our world too.

Rebecca: Those two lechers will be stoned because of what you did!

Susanna: They'll be stones because of what they did.

Sisters share a bond unlike any other – thornier, but also tender, full of possibility.

Listen to me, Artemisia.
Your hands are not your life.
Your gift does not flow
from these bones and tendons.
They could slice off your hands
and you would still
find a way to paint.

You may have to let the bones
grow back together,
to let the wounds close.
But the body is its own
amazing piece of art.

It will heal, in time.

Because she is not small. She is not weak. She will never, ever be feebleminded,
And above all, she is outraged.
The world will tell you not to be outraged, love. They will tell you to sit quietly, be kind. Be a lady.
And when they do? Be Judith instead.

The disconnect of men
to women's bodies
stands to reason.
They'd have to care enough
to see the other as a subject
worthy of their earnest study.
My own oblivion horrifies me more.
I've been here all along
but somehow not.

If you remember nothing else of Susanna, remember how she speaks her truth. She knows it will cost her something. She's not aware yet quite how steep the cost will be, but still she speaks her truth.

Piazzas, churches named for a teenager who gave life to the Christ. Sculptures, paintings, frescoes devoted to her holiness. But the only thing about her we remember, she was a virgin.

Why should a little corner of the garden be so important to a woman like Susanna? A woman with a palatial home, and the finest garments. Because imagine it – if you live as she does, surrounded by endless people and their expectations, ones you cannot possibly live up to, you do not even want to live up to – that refuge might be the only place you are safe.

But that's the thing about perspective; the slightest shift transforms the subject.

Would you like a list of my sins before you hurl those rocks at my head?'
Rebecca cannot understand why her sister would give the crowd further ammunition. Why she would ever concede a single fault. A woman accused has no room for fault.

Sometimes that's all you need my love – another woman's faith in you.

There will come a day,
when this horror is not the
only color on your palette.

They're not monsters, either. Not men you'd shrink away from on the street. On the contrary. They're men you'd see at Mass, who'd give you a polite nod while they greet your husband.

Being in the right is not always the solace you might expect.

I suppose it isn't fair to fault my father, though he's the one who used it, moved it, claimed it as his own because of course, he did. That's just the way of things, I beg and fight and scrape for scraps while he just has to glance upon a thing to make it his.