we perceive silence where, in fact, there is a muffler.
Humor tells you where the trouble is.
Sometimes I feel like a sisterless child.
The question arises as to whether it is possible not to live in the world of men and still to live in the world.
In becoming archaeologists of the world of our mothers, we are trying to retrieve the female past and to invent a future.
Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me."