What is important is the story. Because when we are all dust and teeth and kicked-up bits of skin – when we’re dancing with our own skeletons – our words might be all that’s left of us.
She treated Vanessa and me as if we were visiting budgerigars that needed to be fed and then put somewhere dark for the night.
You learn not to mourn every little thing out here, or you’d never, ever stop grieving.
it is the deep-black-sky quiet time of night, which is the halfway time between the sun setting and the sun rising when even the night animals are quiet—as if they, like day animals, take a break in the middle of their work to rest.
In the West, it was believed that attitude and ambition saved you. In Africa, we had learned that no one was immune to capricious tragedy.
I adore my family. I don’t love their politics. I think they’re wonderful parents. They were dreadful at parenting.
The memoirs that have come out of Africa are sometimes startlingly beautiful, often urgent, and essentially life-affirming, but they are all performances of courage and honesty.
There are real consequences when women speak out. It’s really dangerous, and it takes real courage. We are still speaking out against a white male majority. Forget the glass ceiling. We haven’t even broken the glass floor!
Yes, as an oppressed people, American Indians have this epic burden, but first and foremost, they’re human: sometimes a mess, sometimes funny or sad, at times very wise, and other times not wise at all – a lot like me.
I think there’s a big difference between loving someone out of duty and dependency and loving someone because you really are able to sort of grow and be whole in the context of that relationship.