There are only moments. Live in this one. The happiness of these days.

The whole bloody system is sick: the very notion of leadership, a balloon with a face painted upon it, elected and inflated by media's diabolic need to reduce ideas to personalities.

We are women. We are a subject people who have inherited an alien culture.

Monogamy and prostitution go together.

Men and women were declared equal one morning and everybody could divorce each other by postcard

I was supposed to be women's lib, and now I'd exceeded it and gone over into international politics.

Everybody believes in psychiatry it's supposed to be for our own good. Let psychiatry prove that anybody has an illness, and I'd concede, but there is no physical proof.