To all the women and the men who ever loved me just a little.

A good lover will do that, see something worthwhile in you that you never knew was there. And when there's something you don't like to see in yourself a good lover won't see it either.

I wanted everything. What could you not want when you are brown and Indian-looking in a society in which the white aesthetic is praised as acceptable?

Our goal should be to achieve joy

Poverty has its advantages. When you're that poor what would you have that anyone would want? Except your peace of mind. Your dignity. Your heart. The important things.

I've spent my whole life in Chicago being asked where am I from, so that I have a sense of displacement that also is very psychologically disorienting.

I'm obviously an American citizen. My parents are American citizens. But I'm not looked at as an American.

There are things coming from me that I felt I wanted to talk about. My search for my own blend of spirituality, my acknowledgement of my sexuality, my being the single mother of a young man.

What you perceive as "liberal" is my independence to choose what i do, with whom, and when. Moreover, it also means that i may choose not to do it, with anyone, ever.

For things to have value in man's world, they are given the role of commodities. Among man's oldest and most constant commodity is woman.

Human sexuality has been regulated and shaped by men to serve men's needs.

Death should take me while I am in the mood.

There are gentler and more graceful ways to interface with natural conflict.

You being in your flow helps the rest of us fall into ours.

One must observe the proper rites.

Out with stereotypes, feminism proclaims. But stereotypes are the west's stunning sexual personae, the vehicles of art's assault against nature. The moment there is imagination, there is myth.

In any system, there will be change happening without you.

I tell you solemnly, that I have many times tried to become an insect. But I was not equal even to that. I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness — a real thorough-going illness.

All those moments, those memories. Everything that we are, compressed in just two or three kilos of paper — the weight of a human heart.

And you call yourself a Christian,' were Hilly's words to me and I thought, God. When did I ever do that?

My weight is something that people seem to talk about a lot.