They leave the insistent monotony of the interstate for more reasonable roads. While the former slices its path through entire states, peppering them with exit signs and mile markers, these lesser cousins of the grand highways keep their manners intact, clinging gently to the hemlines of all but the most obstinate geological points of interest. Charming and sometimes a bit frightening, their paths are as unpredictable and winding as a little boy’s route home from school.

Then again, that’s how the most successful predators work, she thinks ruefully. We stumble into their traps and do their work for them while we’re busy getting on with the business of living.

If there’s a password needed at the gates of heaven, only Latin will unlock it, he thinks.

The syrup of lilies hangs thick and sweet in the air, its cloying scent the traditional mask of death and rebirth: ashes and incense, rain and dirt, and something like rosin. It’s the scent Hector associates with God. The scent of heavenly things.

Dawn is a friend of the muses, even if they aren’t awake to appreciate it.

If I have a daughter, I wonder if I would do that to her. But I worry if I didn't, she might not be able to have this conversation.

For a lot of African American women, it's very affirming to come to this show. You finally see yourself for an hour and a half and it's in a positive light. And you're not the sex object or the mammy, you know, that there's a gamut.

We all know that Texas is growing at a phenomenal rate. We need to make sure we can meet the state's growing needs with a stable low-price power supply.

Those who had attributes that were closer to being Caucasian were deemed more acceptable.

Our hair becomes an extension of who we are as a people.