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.
Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me."
Humor tells you where the trouble is.
I say you hurt me. You say I scorned you. We say we care. It begins. The conversation begins.