We are, none of us, 'either' mothers or daughters; to our amazement, confusion, and greater complexity, we are both.
Adrienne RichIt is the lesbian in us who is creative, for the dutiful daughter of the fathers in us is only a hack.
Adrienne RichCan individual psychic wounds really heal in an abusive and fragmented society? Audre Lorde has a poem which begins, "What do we want from each other/ after we have told our stories?" Where do we go to explore our stake with others in such a society?
Adrienne Rich... people are growing up in the slack flicker of a pale light which lacks the concentrated burn of a candle flame or oil wick or the bulb of a gooseneck desk lamp: a pale, wavering, oblong shimmer, emitting incessant noise, which is to real knowledge or discourse what the manic or weepy protestations of a drunk are to responsible speech. Drunks do have a way of holding an audience, though, and so does the shimmery ill-focused oblong screen.
Adrienne Rich