If we do not begin to practice the muscles of having a possessive investment in each other's oppressions, then we are in some serious trouble.

Run a hand through your hair, like the white boys do, even though the only thing that runs easily through your hair is Africa.

My art feels like it's real disobedient. I can fill notebooks with observations and maybe they find their way into the work unconsciously, which is great. I've never been able to directly plug, like to take a little snip that I've picked up on the street and transfer it into a story. I don't know what's wrong, but it never works that way.

She's applying her lipstick; I've always believed that the universe invented the color red solely for Latinas.

Each morning, before Jackie started her studies, she wrote on a clean piece of paper: Tarde venientibus ossa. To the latecomers are left the bones.

You don't want to let go, but don't want to be hurt, either. It's not a great place to be but what can I tell you?

Character is the plot in many ways