Veils of love which was only hate petrified by longing--that was me.

I knew each person's delusion, the places their records had scratched, where the sounds repeated.

To think about love and passion and political correctness all together, it doesn't work. Art has to go way past the political to be effective.

Every so often something shatters like ice and we are in the river of our existence. We are aware.

I feel myself becoming less a person than a place, inhabited, a foreign land.

Women without children are also the best of mothers,often, with the patience,interest, and saving grace that the constant relationship with children cannot always sustain. I come to crave our talk and our daughters gain precious aunts. Women who are not mothering their own children have the clarity and focus to see deeply into the character of children webbed by family. A child is fortuante who feels witnessed as a peron,outside relationships with parents by another adult.

I am part of what she thinks is her illness, a symptom of which she thinks she has been cured. She, on the other hand, is what I was looking for.