Shakespeare had it right all along: Love will kill you in the end.

Are Latino-Americans white? Black? Other? Illegal aliens from Mars? Or are we the very face of America?

I guess it all depends on whom you ask and when you ask. Race, I've learned, is in the eye of the beholder.

The things that come to us easily, our propensities, are carried on a deep subconscious level into our next life. There are no coincidences.

Support and encouragement are found in the most unlikely places.

There are things in our blood that are just naturally passed down to us, whether we want to recognize them or not.

Individually, every grain of sand brushing against my hands represents a story, an experience, and a block for me to build upon for the next generation.