“You want to be a lawyer?” The tip of my mother’s tongue brushed the roof of her mouth, twisting “lawyer” into “liar.” She, of exquisite enunciation, knew exactly what she was doing—washing freshly dyed jeans with the white load. Lawyers…policemen…liars…thieves. To Ma, they were all the same. Deciding to become a lawyer meant I had chosen to be a liar for hire. She couldn’t believe her baby girl had turned into One of Them.
"Singley is going to have to make a decision, and it’s going to have to be either resign the fellowship or resign the student body vice presidency. It’s one of the other. Singley can’t have her cake and eat it too. " (The Independent Florida Alligator, 31 May 1973)