Now that I am in my forties, she [my mother] tells me I'm beautiful; now that I am in my forties, she sends me presents and we have the long, personal and even remarkably honest phone calls I always wanted so intensely I forbade myself to imagine them. How strange. Perhaps Shaw was correct and if we lived to be several hundred years old, we would finally work it all out. I am deeply grateful. With my poems, I finally won even my mother. The longest wooing of my life.
Marge PiercyToo much self-regard has never struck me as dignified: trying to twist over my shoulder to view my own behind.
Marge PiercyI wrote to make sense out of all the contradictions I experienced and to deal with the pain and loss I was undergoing.
Marge PiercyI don't even remember what Mother and I quarreled about: it is a continual quarrel that began when I reached puberty.
Marge Piercy