Wide Sargasso Sea
"It's disgraceful," [Aunt Cora] said. "It's shameful. You are handing over everything the child owns to a perfect stranger. Your father would never have allowed it. She should be protected, legally. A settlement can be arranged and it should be arranged." (II.5.2.1)
"Then I will have the police up, I warn you. There must be some law and order even in this God-forsaken island."
"No police here," she said. "No chain gang, no tread machine, no dark jail either. This is free country and I am free woman."
"Christophine," I said, "you lived in Jamaica for years, and you know Mr. Fraser, the Spanish Town magistrate, well. I wrote to him about you. Would you like to hear what he answered?" (II.6.6.93)
"I thought you liked the black people so much," [Antoinette] said, still in that mincing voice, "but that's just a lie like everything else. You like the light brown girls better, don't you? You abused the planters and made up stories about them, but you do the same thing. You send the girl away quicker, and with no money or less money, and that's all the difference."
"Slavery was not a matter of liking or disliking," I said, trying to speak calmly. "It was a question of justice."
"Justice," she said. "I've heard that word. It's a cold word. I tried it out," she said, still speaking in a low voice. "I wrote it down several times and always it looked like a damn cold lie to me. There is no justice." She drank some more rum and went on. "My mother whom you all talk about, what justice did she have? My mother sitting in the rocking-chair speaking about dead horses and dead grooms and a black devil kissing her sad mouth. Like you kissed mine." (II.6.6.26)