When I write, it's everything that we don't know we can be that is written out of me, without exclusions, without stipulation, and everything we will be calls us to the unflagging, intoxicating, unappeasable search for love. In one another we will never be lacking.

Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time. Write yourself. Your body must be heard.

The only book that is worth writing is the one we don’t have the courage or strength to write. The book that hurts us (we who are writing), that makes us tremble, redden, bleed

Me too, I make do, I anoint what cannot be fixed.

She alone dares and wishes to know from within, where she, the outcast, has never ceased to hear the resonance of fore language. She lets the other language speak - the language of 1,000 tongues which knows neither enclosure nor death. To life she refuses nothing. Her language does not contain, it carries; it does not hold back; it makes possible.

You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her. And she's not deadly. She's beautiful and she's laughing.

Thinking is trying to think the unthinkable: thinking the thinkable is not worth the effort.