My mother had handed down respect for the possibilities...and the will to grasp them.

And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see - or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read.

My mother was very strong. Once, she picked up a coconut and smashed it against my father's head. It taught me about women defending themselves and not collapsing in a heap.

I feel like to be where you need to be - where you know you need to be - is such a high. What could be better?

Anything we love can be saved.

I'm one in what I do and what I say and what I believe.

It's an awful feeling to write something that you feel is really important... and to feel that you're being published by people who really don't get it and/or don't really care.