My friends and I have all been super motivated to work and to do the work that we need to and want to and think should be in the world.

It's hard for black women to ask for help. We think we don't need it. We're used to being in pain and living with it.

I think sometimes the stars align whether we want them to or not. And we're drawn to certain people and places for no other reason than...Destiny.

I think that we need to make it our goal to define freedom for ourselves.

We kind of have to rewrite our own stories and our own ways of being free.

We can look at history and see that [political turmoil is] fertile ground for art.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm trying to take a hit for the team so that other people then can move forward. I'm like, "Look, I just laid out all of my stuff, so what's the worst that can happen?".

In my experience when I do try to avoid something, it makes its way into the work anyway. To be in front of it and just make friends with it is easier for me.

Аrt movements are always linked to some kind of turmoil.

I really hope that people feel permission to talk about their own troubles, but also to celebrate themselves.

Sometimes it's just rejecting stereotypes, sometimes it's creating work. Sometimes it's just blocking out the noise.

Self-love the perfect soil from which to grow love.

Those tingles she’d felt in her abdomen spread lower. Her body recognised her lover’s voice, wanted him.

When I was a little girl, I watched all old movies. My mother liked old movies, and she loved shopping for antiques, so I was around old things all the time.

The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more!

Governing a large state is like boiling a small fish.

Those are only rumors of suffering. Real suffering has a face and a smell. It lasts in the most intense form no matter what you drape over it. And it knows your name.

She had all the best things wrong with her—incest, insanity, drug addiction, bulimia, alopecia: you name it. All the perfect stuff for a memoir. She’s so lucky.

If you feel glamorous, you definitely look glamorous.

I don't like expensive things... I just can't help looking in a magazine for the splurge and the save.

To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick, cross lightning.