Our Dreams Draw Blood From Old Sores.

The Slaves Who Were Ourselves Had Known Terror Intimately, Confused Sunrise With Pain, & Accepted Indifference As Kindness.

When Words & Manners Leave You No Space For Yourself Make Very Personal Very Clear & Your Obstructions Will Join You Or Disappear.

I Write For Young Girls Of Color, For Girls Who Don’t Even Exist Yet, So That There Is Something There For Them When They Arrive. I Can Only Change How They Live, Not How They Think.

I Found God In Myself And I Loved Her I Loved Her Fiercely

I Started Writing Because There's An Absence Of Things I Was Familiar With Or That I Dreamed About. One Of My Senses Of Anger Is Related To This Vacancy - A Yearning I Had As A Teenager. . .and When I Get Ready To Write, I Think I'm Trying To Fill That. . .