Nobody’s going to save you. No one’s going to cut you down, cut the thorns thick around you. No one’s going to storm the castle walls nor kiss awake your birth, climb down your hair, nor mount you onto the white steed. There is no one who will feed the yearning. Face it. You will have to do, do it yourself.— Gloria E. Anzaldúa
The most stunning Gloria E. Anzaldúa quotes that will activate your inner potential
Write with your eyes like painters, with your ears like musicians, with your feet like dancers. You are the truthsayer with quill and torch. Write with your tongues of fire. Don't let the pen banish you from yourself.
To separate from my culture (as from my family) I had to feel competent enough on the outside and secure enough inside to live life on my own. Yet in leaving home I did not lose touch with my origins because lo mexicano is in my system. I am a turtle, wherever I go I carry 'home' on my back.
What we say and what we do ultimately comes back to us so let us own our responsibility, place it in our hands, and carry it with dignity and strength.
Living on borders and in margins, keeping intact one's shifting and multiple identity and integrity, is like trying to swim in a new element, an "alien" element.
Though we tremble before uncertain futures may we meet illness, death and adversity with strength may we dance in the face of our fears.
Nothing happens in the 'real' world unless it first happens in the images in our heads
Like all people, we perceive the version of reality that our culture communicates. Like others having or living in more than one culture, we get multiple, often opposing messages. The coming together of two self-consistent but habitually incomparable frames of reference causes un choque, a cultural collision.
I am an act of kneading, of uniting and joining that not only has produced both a creature of darkness and a creature of light, but also a creature that questions the definitions of light and dark and gives them new meanings.
To survive the Borderlands you must live sin fronteras be a crossroads.
An image is a bridge between evoked emotion and conscious knowledge;
words are the cables that hold up the bridge. Images are more direct, more immediate than words, and closer to the unconscious. Picture language precedes thinking in words; the metaphorical mind precedes analytical consciousness.
I am visible-see this Indian face-yet I am invisible.
I both blind them with my beak nose and am their blind spot. But I exist, we exist. They'd like to think I have melted in the pot. But I haven't. We haven't.
We are taught that the body is an ignorant animal intelligence dwells only in the head. But the body is smart. It does not discern between external stimuli and stimuli from the imagination. It reacts equally viscerally to events from the imagination as it does to real events.
Wild tongues can't be tamed, they can only be cut out.
Living in a state of psychic unrest, in a Borderland, is what makes poets write and artists create.
The U.S.-Mexican border es un herida abierta where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country - a border culture.
the world I create in writing compensates for what the real world does not give me.
Enough of passivity and passing time while waiting for the boy friend, the girl friend, the Goddess, or the Revolution.
By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it.
Why am I compelled to write? Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear. Because I have no choice.
In trying to become 'objective,' Western culture made 'objects' of things and people when it distanced itself from them, thereby losing 'touch' with them.
The act of writing is the act of making soul, alchemy.
But I'm more scared of not writing.
I change myself, I change the world.
I want the freedom to carve and chisel my own face, to staunch the bleeding with ashes, to fashion my own gods out of my entrails.
Write in the kitchen, lock yourself up in the bathroom.
Write on the bus or the welfare line, on the job or during meals.
I am mad - but I choose this madness.
Depression is useful. It signals that you need to make changes in your life, it challenges your tendency to withdraw, it reminds you to take action.
We cannot educate white women and take them by the hand.
Most of us are willing to help but we can't do the white woman's homework for her. That's an energy drain. More times than she cares to remember, Nellie Wong, Asian American feminist writer, has been called by white women wanting a list of Asian American women who can give readings or workshops. We are in danger of being reduced to purveyors of resource lists.
The Gringo, locked into the fiction of white superiority, seized complete political power, stripping Indians and Mexicans of their land while their feet were still rooted in it. Con el destierro y el exilo fuimos desuñados, destroncados, destripados - we were jerked out by the roots, truncated, disemboweled, dispossessed, and separated from our identity and our history.
I am playing with my Self, I am playing with the world's soul, I am the dialogue between my Self and el espiritu del mundo. I change myself, I change the world.
Books saved my sanity, knowledge opened the locked places in me and taught me first how to survive and then how to soar.
All reaction is limited by, and dependant on, what it is reacting against.
Do work that matters. Vale la pena
My 'awakened dreams' are about shifts.
Thought shifts, reality shifts, gender shifts: one person metamorphoses into another in a world where people fly through the air, heal from mortal wounds. I am playing with my Self, I am playing with the world's soul, I am the dialogue between my Self, and el espirítu del mundo. I change myself, I change the world.
I had to leave home so I could find myself, find my own intrinsic nature buried under the personality that had been imposed on me.
I can't seem to stay out of my own way.
These my two hands / quick to slap my face / before others could slap it.