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I felt like my heritage was a defendant at atribunal, and I had no choice but to protect it and denounce such an outdated prejudice.
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Late one afternoon when I finally read the Book Review section, my blood began to boil.
Realistically, I approached writing like waxing a car, thoroughly and repeatedly.
Think about your feelings deep down in your bones. Measure the heat of the fire there, for that is the passion that will flow through every particle of your being.
I just knew that I had to write that letter, in the same way a priest has to pray, or a musician has to play an instrument.
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