He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it
. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The be
st thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - tow
ard water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want
 that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire-
 well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I st
opped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was tal
king about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the pi
cture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  
Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back
 to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky
. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked h
er down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It
 spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a p
lace where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing 
yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love 
ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Place
s, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I
 did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, t
hat was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out
 there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; 
flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thin
g that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because h
e was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 
124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too
 thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory.
 You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outsid
e my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where y
ou could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to th
ink it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everyth
ing, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road
.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able t
o stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, no
t four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fenc
e used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. So
me things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out t
here, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Wh
y? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard
 for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much
 was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were loo
king the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Belov
ed smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to nee
d permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed 
self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling
  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's go
ne, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the pl
ace where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "A
nything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, th
ought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it
 hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped t
he fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what 
she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had c
laimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is 
or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never
 do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I di
e, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission
 for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or k
new, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; fl
esh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her whe
n he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was i
n losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up betwe
en them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be s
afe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to t
hink it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating
 around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: t
o get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some t
hings stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love ju
st a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it 
was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am.
 it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'Yo
u got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at 
the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for
 me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just i
n my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Belo
ved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking 
about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to
 love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both 
missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darke
ned in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anythin
g you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming 
ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud 
 nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a h
ouse burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still ou
t there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to 
hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where 
it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in
 grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all a
long.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out
.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along wi
th the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too t
hick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget
. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don'
t think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose 
– not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the pic
ture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in 
this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing 
that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 1
24, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then 
a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my 
babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some thing
s just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I rememb
er is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew e
xactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some th
ings go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing,
 he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water
 - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that pla
ce. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now
, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him
,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking abou
t time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of 
it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Mil
lion and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life 
hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a u
sed-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down. 
 Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread a
round her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place wher
e you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself 
was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't lov
e at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places
 are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or 
knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was f
reedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. R
ight in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh tha
t dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that ha
d been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not
 man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and i
n the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' 
he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know
. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head
. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could 
love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it wa
s my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just
 a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just c
uriosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or
 go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' 
he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to
 be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things
 go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in 
the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? W
hy? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me t
o believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dang
erous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the 
wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles
, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permiss
ion for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was 
another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is 
mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but t
he place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where
 it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything d
ead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Pau
l D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  N
obody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold o
f her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant
: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed he
rself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Your love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain
't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But 
it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the pi
cture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desi
re- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things stay. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or s
aw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that 
weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was coming down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he aske
d it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was not being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing 
Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two feet Sethe, not four,' he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them  
Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she had claimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing: claiming ownership of that freed self was another.  'I stopped him,' she said, staring at the place where the fence used to be. 'I took and put my babies where they'd be safe.'  'Y
our love is too thick,' he said, thinking…'Too thick?' she said…Love is or it ain't.  Thin love ain't love at all.  124 was loud  nobody saw them falling  she is mine  I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it w
as my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place—the picture of it—stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around o
ut there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.  Sixty Million and more  I am Beloved and she is min e "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" He knew exactly what she meant: to get to 
a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  "It's going to hurt, now," said Amy, "Anything dead coming back to life hurts."  "I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things sta
y. I used to think it was my rememory... the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened."  Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous... The best thing, he knew, was to love just a litt
le bit; everything, just a little bit.  Here in this place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard.  Nobody knocked her down.  Which is why they both missed it: they were looking the wrong way - toward water - and all the while it was comin
g down the road.  Just curiosity. But the thing that leapt up in her when he asked it was a thing that had been lying there all along.  Beloved dropped the fold of her skirt. It spread around her. The hem darkened in the water.  Beloved smiles, 'I don't want that place. This the place I am. it was n
ot being able to stay or go where he wished in 124, and the danger was in losing Sethe because he was not man enough to break out.  He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose – not to need permission for desire- well now, that was freedom.  'You got two