"They had become an occasional mutter – like the interior sounds a woman makes when she believes she..."

“They had become an occasional mutter – like the interior sounds a woman makes when she believes she is alone and unobserved at her work: a sth when she misses the needle’s eye; a soft moan when she sees another chip in her one good platter; the low, friendly argument with which she greets the hens. Nothing fierce or startling. Just that eternal, private conversation that takes place between women and their tasks.”

- Beloved, Toni Morrison.