A story is told as much by silence as by speech.
We keep secrets from ourselves that all along we know.
But still, the other voice, the intuitive, returns, like grass forcing its way through concrete.
Waging war is not a primary physical need.
In one sense I feel that my book is a one-woman argument against determinism.
Just as the slave master required the slaves to imitate the image he had of them, so women, who live in a relatively powerless position, politically and economically, feel obliged by a kind of implicit force to live up to culture's image of what is female.