Why am I compelled to write? Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear. Because I have no choice. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share Image
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… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, white. I will have my serpent's tongue - my woman's voice, my sexual voice, my poet's voice.… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
Nothing happens in the 'real' world unless it first happens in the images in our heads — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
In trying to become 'objective,' Western culture made 'objects' of things and people when it distanced itself from them, thereby losing 'touch' with them. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
The Gringo, locked into the fiction of white superiority, seized complete political power, stripping Indians and Mexicans of their land while their feet were… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
Write in the kitchen, lock yourself up in the bathroom. Write on the bus or the welfare line, on the job or during meals. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
We are taught that the body is an ignorant animal intelligence dwells only in the head. But the body is smart. It does not… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
To separate from my culture (as from my family) I had to feel competent enough on the outside and secure enough inside to live… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
the world I create in writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
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… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
Books saved my sanity, knowledge opened the locked places in me and taught me first how to survive and then how to soar. — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
Write with your eyes like painters, with your ears like musicians, with your feet like dancers. You are the truthsayer with quill and torch.… — Gloria E. Anzaldúa Copy Share
