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.

If my desire is possible, it means the system is already letting something else through.

We must learn to speak the language women speak when there is no one there to correct us.

We must kill the false woman who is preventing the live one from breathing.

Only when you are lost can love find itself in you without losing its way.

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

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