It's not the heart that compels conclusions in cases, it's the law.

I hope that as the Senate and the American people learn more about me they will see that I am an ordinary person who has been blessed with extraordinary opportunities and experiences.

I firmly believe in the rule of law as the foundation for all of our basic rights.

I wouldn't approach the issue of judging in the way the president does. Judges can't rely on what's in their heart. They don't determine the law. Congress makes the law. The job of a judge is to apply the law.

Whether born from experience or inherent physiological or cultural differences our gender and national origins may and will make a difference in our judging.

This wealth of experiences, personal and professional, have helped me appreciate the variety of perspectives that present themselves in every case that I hear.

With my academic achievement in high school I was accepted rather readily at Princeton and equally as fast at Yale, but my test scores were not comparable to that of my classmates. And that's been shown by statistics, there are reasons for that - there are cultural biases built into testing, and that was one of the motivations for the concept of affirmative action to try to balance out those effects.

Personal experiences affect the facts that judges choose to see.

I stand on the shoulders of countless people, yet there is one extraordinary person who is my life aspiration - that person is my mother, Celina Sotomayor.

I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life.

Even though Article IV of the Constitution says that treaties are the 'supreme law of the land,' in most instances they're not even law.

We apply law to facts. We don't apply feelings to facts.

I want to state upfront, unequivocally and without doubt: I do not believe that any racial, ethnic or gender group has an advantage in sound judging. I do believe that every person has an equal opportunity to be a good and wise judge, regardless of their background or life experiences.

I was raised in a Bronx public housing project, but studied at two of the nation's finest universities. I did work as an assistant district attorney, prosecuting violent crimes that devastate our communities.

All of the legal defense funds out there, they're looking for people out there with court of appeals experience, because court of appeals is where policy is made. And I know, I know this is on tape and I should never say that because we don't make law, I know. I know.

Although I grew up in very modest and challenging circumstances, I consider my life to be immeasurably rich.

I am an ordinary person who has been blessed with extraordinary opportunities and experiences. Today is one of those experiences.

It's not the heart that compels conclusions in cases, it's the law.

All I can say is that with business and the interest of any party before me, I will consider and apply the law as it is written by Congress and informed by precedent.

All judges have cases that touch our passions deeply, but we all struggle constantly with remaining impartial.

An alcoholic father, poverty, my own juvenile diabetes, the limited English my parents spoke - although my mother has become completely bilingual since. All these things intrude on what most people think of as happiness.

Each time I see a split infinitive, an inconsistent tense structure or the unnecessary use of the passive voice, I blister.

Even though Article IV of the Constitution says that treaties are the 'supreme law of the land', in most instances they're not even law.

I am a New Yorker, and 7:00 A.M. is a civilized hour to finish the day, not to start it.

I am a product of affirmative action. I am the perfect affirmative action baby. I am Puerto Rican, born and raised in the south Bronx. My test scores were not comparable to my colleagues at Princeton and Yale. Not so far off so that I wasn't able to succeed at those institutions.

I am an ordinary person who has been blessed with extraordinary opportunities and experiences.

I barely saw my mother, and the mom I saw was often angry and unhappy. The mother I grew up with is not the mother I know now. It's not the mother she became after my father died, and that's been the greatest prize of my life.

I came to accept during my freshman year that many of the gaps in my knowledge and understanding were simply limits of class and cultural background, not lack of aptitude or application as I'd feared.

I can and do aspire to be greater than the sum total of my experiences, but I accept my limitations. I willingly accept that we who judge must not deny the differences resulting from experience and heritage but attempt, as the Supreme Court suggests, continuously to judge when those opinions, sympathies and prejudices are appropriate.

I do believe that every person has an equal opportunity to be a good and wise judge regardless of their background or life experiences.

I do know one thing about me: I don't measure myself by others' expectations or let others define my worth.

I don't believe we should bend the Constitution under any circumstance. It says what it says. We should do honor to it.

I don't prejudge issues. I come to every case with an open mind. Every case is new to me.

I don't prejudge.

I found in my experiences that it's not that men are consciously discriminating against promoting women, but I do believe as people we have self-images about what's good.

I had no need to apologize that the look-wider, search-more affirmative action that Princeton and Yale practiced had opened doors for me. That was its purpose: to create the conditions whereby students from disadvantaged backgrounds could be brought to the starting line of a race many were unaware was even being run.

I have had positive experiences with cameras. When I have been asked to join experiments using cameras in the courtroom, I have participated; I have volunteered.

I have never had to face anything that could overwhelm the native optimism and stubborn perseverance I was blessed with.

I have never, ever focused on the negative of things. I always look at the positive.

I have spent my years since Princeton, while at law school and in my various professional jobs, not feeling completely a part of the worlds I inhabit. I am always looking over my shoulder wondering if I measure up.

I honestly felt no envy or resentment, only astonishment at how much of a world there was out there and how much of it others already knew. The agenda for self-cultivation that had been set for my classmates by their teachers and parents was something I'd have to develop for myself.

I hope that as the Senate and American people learn more about me, they will see that I am an ordinary person who has been blessed with extraordinary opportunities and experiences.

I listened very, very carefully to the world around me to pick up the signals of when trouble was coming. Not that I could stop it. But it made me observant. That was helpful when I became a lawyer, because I knew how to read people's signals.

I realized that people had an unreal image of me, that somehow I was a god on Mount Olympus. I decided that if I were going to make use of my role as a Supreme Court Justice, it would be to inspire people to realize that, first, I was just like them and second, if I could do it, so could they.

I savor life. When you have anything that threatens life... it prods you into stepping back and really appreciating the value of life and taking from it what you can.

I stand on the shoulders of countless people, yet there is one extraordinary person who is my life aspiration. That person is my mother, Celina Sotomayor.

I strive never to forget the real world consequences of my decisions on individuals, businesses and government.

I think it's important to move people beyond just dreaming into doing. They have to be able to see that you are just like them, and you made it.

I think that the day a justice forgets that each decision comes at a cost to someone, then I think you start losing your humanity.