A dreary censorship, and self-censorship, has been imposed on books by the centralization of the book industry.

It was easy enough to kill yourself in a fit of despair. It was easy enough to play the martyr. It was harder to do nothing. To endure your life. To wait.

The best slave does not need to be beaten. She beats herself.

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.

And what if I don't want forgiveness?

Is perception equivalent to existence?

The truth is simple, you do not die from love. You only wish you did.