I had forgotten how much light there is in the world, till you gave it back to me.
All or nothing at all, the true lover says, and that's the truth of it. My love will never die, he says. He claims eternity. And rightly. How can it die when it's life itself? What do we know of eternity but the glimpse we get of it when we enter in that bond?
A man does not make his destiny: he accepts it or denies it.
Not even need and love can defeat fate.
In war everybody is a prisoner.
The misogyny that shapes every aspect of our civilization is the institutionalized form of male fear and hatred of what they have denied and therefore cannot know, cannot share: that wild country, the being of women.