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

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

This is what I know about my parents. They spent the next several years trying to forget each other, and me.

Janet Mock's honest and sometimes searing journey is a rare and important look into la vida liminal, one that she manages to negotiate remarkably well, with grace, humor, and fierce grit. Mock doesn't only redefine what realness means to her, but challenges us to rethink our own perceptions of gender and sexuality, feminism and sisterhood, making this book a transcendent piece of American literature.

A mother isn’t the person who births you; it’s the person who rears you and shows you love.

If Aphrodite chills at home in Cyprus for most of the year, then Fez must be the goddess’s playground

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.