Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.― Beloved, Toni Morrison, 1987.
You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise.― Still I Rise, Maya Angelou, 1978.
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j'ai une idée !
Oups, une coquille