“The second was some rather bad poetry, but it was short, and I forced my way through by gritting my teeth and occasionally closing one eye so as not to damage the entirety of my brain.”

“Of course I can do this. I'm pregnant, not brain-damaged. My condition doesn't change my personality.”

“Nothing helped; I was fading helplessly away with open eyes, staring straight at the ceiling. Finally I stuck my forefinger in my mouth and took to sucking on it. Something began stirring in my brain, some thought in there scrambling to get out, a stark-staring mad idea: what if I gave a bite? And without a moment's hesitation I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth together. I jumped up. I was finally awake.”

“My brain: it's my second favorite organ.”

“In short: I felt my existence was tainted, in some subtle but essential way.”

“My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.”

“In all these years of recuperaion, I over-used one half of my body. So, when I did a short sprint on the beach, I just fell and couldn't get back on my feet again. In the bad time following I was helped by my two wonderful brothers, who got me into a hospital and assisted me in many ways, God bless them. As it turned out, the hip bones of the side of my body which had been overly stressed were severely damaged, and so I had a very hard time after that.”

“I need my hands
I need my feet
Gimme my soul
I'm incomplete
I need my eyes
I want my teeth
Gimme my scope
Gimme my beliefs.”

“It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.”

“My association is so painfully close that avoidance is the only way I know to retain my identity. It's ridiculous and embarrassing. I hate feeling this way, because it forces me to see how deeply racism has affected me.”