When I was sixteen, it was simple. Poetry existed; therefore it could be written; and nobody had told me — yet — the many, many reasons why it could not be written by me.

When a man is attacked in print, it's usually for saying what he says; when a woman is attacked in print, it's often for being who she is.

She had no images of this love. She could offer no anecdotes. It was a belief rather than a memory.

People dressed in a certain kind of clothing are never wrong. Also they never fart.

There's more than one way to skin a cat, my father used to say; it bothered me, I didn't see why they would want to skin a cat even one way.

Men and women are not "equal" if "equal" means "exactly the same." Our many puzzlements and indeed unhappinesses come from trying to figure out what the differences really mean, or should mean, or should not mean.

I feel like cotton candy: sugar and air. Squeeze me and I’d turn into a small sickly damp wad of weeping pinky-red.