There is a rhythm to the ending of a marriage just like the rhythm of a courtship, only backward.

Flesh is merely a lesson. We learn it & pass on.

Throughout much of history, women writers have capitulated to male standards, and have paid too much heed to what Virginia Woolf calls "the angel in the house." She is that little ghost who sits on one's shoulder while one writes and whispers, "Be nice, don't say anything that will embarrass the family, don't say anything your man will disapprove of ..." [ellipsis in original] The "angel in the house" castrates one's creativity because it deprives one of essential honesty, and many women writers have yet to win the freedom to be honest with themselves.

Always do the things you fear the most. Courage is an acquired taste, like caviar.

Surviving means being born over and over.

I am not sure if love is a salve or just a deeper kind of wound.

It is a sad paradox that when male authors impersonate women ... they are said to be dealing with 'cosmic, major concerns' - but when we impersonate ourselves we are said to be writing 'women's fiction' or 'women's poetry.