'Way I see it, ain't no pure and it is we who are blessed, for we know this.'

'Blessed, huh?'

'Blessed, for we do not bear the weight of pretending pure[...]I would live down here among my losses, among the muck and mess of it, before I would ever live among those who are in their own kind of muck but are so blinded by it they fancy it pure. Ain't no pure[...]Ain't no clean.'" (293)

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