I have suckled the wolf's lip of anger and I have used it for illumination, laughter, protection, fire in places where there was no light, no food, no sisters, no quarter.

What I leave behind has a life of its own.

When you reach out and touch other human beings, it doesn't matter whether you call it therapy or teaching or poetry.

I have come to believe that caring for myself is not self-indulgent. Caring for myself is an act of survival.

Sometimes we drug ourselves with dreams of new ideasl The head will save us. The brain alone will set us free. But there are no new ideas waiting in the wings to save us as women, as human. There are only old and forgotten ones, new combinations, extrapolations and recognitions from within ourselves--along with the renewed courage to try them out.

The oppression of women knows no ethnic nor racial boundaries, true, but that does not mean it is identical within those boundaries.

Revolution is not a one time event.