In the everyday language 
of our modern existence, women have been taught to measure ourselves in the currency of restriction rather than aspiration.

There is only one solution and that is love. There is no medicine potent enough to cure the ailment at the root. Love is the cure. Love is the virtue.

Outrage is the amphetamine of the masses; it keeps pumping us up but we get nothing done.

It’s a long game. It may not happen in this lifetime. Winning is not the goal; playing is.

Love is born of the constant vigilance we need to prevent us from fabricating the other. It is a courageous act.

Perhaps part of this is my awakening that I am not alone. There are people without dust in their eyes who see.

True power is the sustained capacity to uplift and raise things into their realized form.

In a forest, the roots of one tree do not steal from another—they intertwine, exchanging nutrients, strengthening the soil. The more life flourishes, the more life can flourish. The same is true for human endeavor.

Change isn’t a spectator sport—it hums through us all, a restless current.