“My mom didn’t adhere to any of those typical rules. She woke us up for school every morning, and was there at dinner or would call at bedtime. She never left for longer than a week. She recorded while we were sleeping.”

One of the things I’ve realized is how portable God is. No really, He’s everywhere!

We all, as women, need to continue to change our gaze from how we are seen to how we are seeing.

Nothing goes to windward like a 747.

The clothing, the makeup, the freedom of expression in [the models’] bodies. It was Linda and Christy and Naomi at the time. So I modeled before college.

My generation is one of the first generations of “choiceful” women – women who have actually had the choice of how they architect their lives – and I don’t think shame should have any place in that. But as that generation, you get cuts and bruises.

Sometime in my second year at Brown [University], I took an acting class. And the lightbulb went off for me. I fell in love with it. I realized that everything I was afraid of about myself, all my fears, could be used in that world.

My mom helped me. I was very shy growing up, but my shyness sort of manifested in a big personality.

This woman [Bow] was not simply a reflection of who her husband was. She was her own whole self. And even if we weren’t exploring life through her eyes, when we did see her it was clear that she had a full life.

Differences in experience, points of view and opinions aren’t what pulls us apart. It’s what pulls us together.

I am learning every day to allow the space between where I am and where I want to be to inspire me and not terrify me.

There is a way to be a woman, ask for what we deserve and be able to negotiate.

Someone asked me recently, “Do you get sick of people asking you about your hair?” And the reason I don’t is because I actually feel like you could chronicle my journey of self-acceptance through my journey with my hair. It’s a badge of something bigger.

Sometimes I feel like art is supposed to mirror life, but strangely it’s as if art is trying to catch up to life, to a certain extent?

My bathroom is filled with hair and makeup stuff and I play with it all the time. What the real lesson is, is that you can own your own sense of beauty. It doesn’t have to be something you get from somewhere else.

[Black-ish creator] Kenya Bariss wrote on Girlfriends. We’ve been friendly since then. He sent me [the pilot] and said, “I wrote it for you.” But I know what that means in this industry.

I have to take some time to dream some new dreams. I feel like there’s a treasure hunt in front of me. A treasure hunt that is speckled with and seeded by a deep-rooted wild freedom.

They wrapped her up like a baby burrito to show to Mom. Here were a mother and her daughter and I love them both so much.

In front of the photograph of my mother as a child, I tell myself: she is going to die: I shudder, like winnicott’s psychotic patient, over a catastrophe which has already occurred. Whether or not the subject is already dead, every photograph is this catastrophe.

My mom is the Kris Jenner of boxing.

What motivated me? My mother. My mother was an immigrant woman, a peasant woman, struggled all her life, worked in the garment center.

My mom sold real estate and did it part time.

My dad didn’t graduate from high school, ended up being a printing salesman, probably never made more than $8,000 a year.

One time, my mom told us, ‘No TV.’ It was 3 P.M., and I was sneaking it in. She put her hand on the back of the TV to see if it was warm, and it was.

Censorship is the mother of metaphor.