When we can become really honest with ourselves, and deeply ponder what we want, where we want to go, what we want to do, we are at the perfect beginning, because we are, right at that moment, at the heart of who we are, and any action taken from that place is going to be a glorious one.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

Strange, there's so much religion in the world, but only enough to make us fight over who is right, not enough to make us love one another.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

Why do we not believe hysterical women? Hysterical women are always right.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

The hotness is not about age, looks, body type, race; it's about honesty, knowing who you are and being who you are, without trying to front yourself as being better than you really are. It's about the deep-down authenticity of self, then looking it, living it, loving it.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

What people need to understand is that the pussy is the Front Door of Life. Do you get that? Nobody really thinks about it like that up in the dusty ancient cabinet of old white men that think they know everything. Woman has the right to let someone in, or to tell them to come back another time, or even to have a sign that says NO SOLICITORS. Woman has the right to be exalted, cherished and respected. Woman has the right to choose, to choose for herself, for her own body, for her own life. Feminism is nonnegotiable. Word to your mother.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

Do we forget our roots when we move on up, or do we take them with us and continue to fight for racial equality? Do we have a responsibility to fight for those who still struggle for a piece of American pie, or can we merely savor what we have and let everyone else fend for themselves, and live in the penthouse of privilege without the guilt of obligation? Finally, has our own attainment of unprecedented affluence allowed us to ignore everyone we consider "less than" because it feels justified?

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

The terrible thing about invisibility is the lengths we will go to be seen.

-- "i have chosen to stay and fight,"
by Margaret Cho

I felt like a Jane Austen heroine all of a sudden ..., confusedly looking on at all the people she loves, their myriad unpredictable couplings and uncouplings. ... Just jokes and friendships and romances and delicious declarations of independence. ... We none of us knew for sure what kind we were, exactly, but as long as we were the kind that could sit around eating together and having a lovely time, that was enough.

-- "Julie and Julia,"
by Julie Powell

Jesus had but to give a nod of agreement and he could have constructed Christendom, not on four shaky Gospels and a defeated man nailed on a Cross, but on a basis of sound socio-economic planning and principles .... Every utopia could have been brought to pass, every hope have been realized and every dream been made to come true. What a benefactor, then, Jesus would have been. Acclaimed, equally, in the London School of Economics and the Harvard Business School; a statue in Parliament Square, and an even bigger one on Capitol Hill and in the Red Sqaure .... Instead, he turned the offer down on the ground that only God should be worshipped.

Malcolm Muggeridge, from
"The Jesus I Never Knew,"
by Philip Yancey

... the gospel accounts of the first Christmas ... Jesus was born far from home, with no midwife, extended family, or village chorus present. ... How many times did Mary review the angel's words as she felt the Son of God kicking against the walls of her uterus? ... We know nothing of Jesus' grandparents. What must they have felt? ... it seems that God arranged the most humiliating circumstances possible for his entrance, as if to avoid any charge of favoritism. ... And so Jesus the Christ entered the world amid strife and terror, and spent his infancy hidden in Egypt as a refugee. ... Unimaginably, the Maker of all things shrank down, down, down, so small as to become an ovum, a single fertilized egg barely visible to the naked eye, an egg that would divide and redivide until a fetus took shape, enlarging cell by cell inside a nervous teenager. ... The God who roared, who could order armies and empires about like pawns on a chessboard, this God emerged in Palestine as a baby who could not speak or eat solid food or control his bladder, who depended on a teenager for shelter, food, and love. ... A mule could have stepped on him. ...The God who created matter took shape within it, ... [t]he Word became flesh. ... How did God the Father feel that night, helpless as any human father, watching his Son emerge smeared with blood to face a harsh, cold world? ... God, who knows no before or after, entered time and space. God, who knows no boundaries took on the shocking confines of a baby's skin, the ominous restraints of mortality.

"The Jesus I Never Knew,"
by Philip Yancey