Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me."

I say you hurt me. You say I scorned you. We say we care. It begins. The conversation begins.

Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me."

Sometimes I feel like a sisterless child.

In becoming archaeologists of the world of our mothers, we are trying to retrieve the female past and to invent a future.

we perceive silence where, in fact, there is a muffler.

Humor tells you where the trouble is.