"These people, they smile at me and show their teeth. But, but it's the eyes that bite. I have not seen the back of anyone's head since I came here. Their eyes are all over my body like, like dirty fingers. I think they would turn their backs, I would leap upon them and my flesh would have to be washed off like filth. You should not have brought me here. I do not belong with these people.... How could I know I would come back to this. For five years with the Comanches my eyes never saw a tear. Now they see the silent questions: How many mestizo children carry her blood in their veins? Why didn't I kill myself?"
"These young women have had four years of very special space.... This has been special space. This has been safe space. But when they graduate, they will begin to deal on a daily basis, all day long, month after month, year after year, with the realities that still haunt our nation."
"Ever since I was a kid my folks fed me bigotry for breakfast and ignorance for supper. Never, not once did they ever make me feel proud of where I was born. That's it. That was a cancer they put in me. No knowledge of my country. No pride. Just a hymn of hate."
"I'm ashamed of myself and this magazine too. The sloppy, slovenly notion that everybody's busy doing bigger things. Well, there just isn't anything bigger than beating down the complacence of essentially decent people about prejudice. Yes, I'm ashamed of myself."
"I saw the man my friend ... wants pardoned, Thomas Flinton. He is a bright, good-looking fellow.... Of his innocence all are confident. The governor strikes me as a man seeking popularity, who lacks the independence and manhood to do right at the risk of losing popularity. Afraid of what will be said. He is prejudiced against the Irish and Democrats."