I was not sorry when my brother died.

I was not sorry when my brother died.

Everything about her spoke of alternatives and possibilities that if considered too deeply would wreak havoc with the neat plan I had laid out for my life.

Can you cook books and feed them to your husband? Stay at home with your mother. Learn to cook and clean. Grow vegetables.

This business of womanhood is a heavy burden.

It’s bad enough . . . when a country gets colonized, but when the people do as well! That’s the end, really, that’s the end.

You are one of the rare people who can separate your observation from your perception...you see what is, where most people see what they expect.