“I am a woman, and I am a Latina. Those are the things that make my writing disti…” — Sandra Cisneros

I realize that when I moved out of my father's house I shocked and frightened him because I needed a room of my own, a space of my own to reinvent myself.

I was silent as a child, and silenced as a young woman; I am taking my lumps and bumps for being a big mouth, now, but usually from those whose opinion I don't respect.

Revenge only engenders violence, not clarity and true peace. I think liberation must come from within.

In English, my name means hope. In Spanish, it means too many letters. It means sadness. It means waiting. It is like the number nine, a muddy color.