“This is what we Mexicans do:we take what exists and we make it our own.”

“That is what we are, what we do: nose a net, push push, a net that never exists. The knots in the mesh as strong as our own believing. Our own fears.”

“What fabrications they are, mothers. Scarecrows, wax dolls for us to stick pins into, crude diagrams. We deny them an existence of their own, we make them up to suit ourselves -- our own hungers, our own wishes, our own deficiencies.”

“We are not our own any more than what we possess is our own. We did not make ourselves, we cannot be supreme over ourselves. We are not our own masters.”

“It is our lot to take what we have, make of it what we will. We are meant to finger the leftovers, rock our old dolls, clutch wooden angels to our breasts.”

“I think we make our own luck. Our parents give us life, but what we do with that life is our own responsibility.”