A book like this makes you think. I've been thinking for hours, doubt I'll stop just because I'm about to fall asleep. Fairly certain these incredibly vivid characters will follow me into my dreams. 
 The complexities of each of these women, how real K. Stockett was able to paint them, astounds me. There is real evil here, real atrocities being committed in the minds of some of these women, but goodness if these aren't real women. You can find a way to relate to all of them, even if you don't want to be able to. Unbelievable the way she was able to portray that. 
 The most shocking thing is how close this is, to all of us. Not two generations separate me from situations most probably eerily similar to at least one chapter of Skeeter's book. But was it one of the chapters where love and loyalty was spoken of; or rather a chapter where hate, animosity, race, shame, and fear rang paramount? Almost makes you want to call your grandmother, just to ask. Just to say, "Have you read The Help? Can you talk to me? Can I be a part of what this meant for you?" 
 And then there are those lines; the ones Minny refers to. The ones that exist between people; these tangible, uncross-able lines. The same that Abileen refers to, albeit in a much different way. The ones that people create; these lines that are in our heads, that are taken down when two people on opposite sides look one another in the eye and choose to remove them. 
 Can I call my grandmother? Can I ask my great-aunt? Can I ask anyone? Do they want to talk about this? Which chapter will they be? Is the simple pure fact that I still see these lines, although blurred; is that not what says something? That I will question, for one second, whether or not I can ask these questions, does that not show this is not nearly as over as we would like to believe? 
 But I imagine that is just one more thing the author wanted us to consider after reading. Is this just an awful blip in our past, unimaginable because it is so far away from us? 
 "Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning." - Albert Einstein 
 //&& One more thing- 
 I work in a bookstore. So I amend my previous statement --- what I *actually* find most astounding is the older women who will come into the store to purchase this book, and then look at me, make sure I'm looking them dead in the eye - and then tell me, in a whisper, "I never treated my help this way." Or the woman who came in today after seeing the movie and asked for a copy of the book, because it "brought back memories." She looked at me, almost as an afterthought, and said, "Good ones, mind you. Not bad ones. I didn't have no bad memories of that time, mind you. We were good to our help." As though she still feels she has something to prove. 
 That hits you. Hits you down deep, somewhere you weren't even sure you had. Makes you want to know. Want to understand. Wish you could've been a part of it - not to be a mere witness to the events, but to have been a part of them, and to have been different. Been better. Makes you want to make sure you're being better now, every day, in every way you can be.