I am not innocent. Innocence is a science of the sublime. And I am only at the very beginning of the apprenticeship.

Writing is the passageway, the entrance, the exit, the dwelling place of the other in me.

in the synagogue of my heart... I myself jail and the jailed, I go wounded, bite-marked

Explore the idea of what the language that women speak would really be like if no one were there to correct them.

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.

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

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