Everything About Women Is In Perpetual Crisis.

Maybe Love Is Like Rain. Sometimes Gentle, Sometimes Torrential, Flooding, Eroding, Joyful, Steady, Filling The Earth, Collecting In Underground Springs. When It Rains, When We Love, Life Grows.

The Hardest Times For Me Were Not When People Challenged What I Said, But When I Felt My Voice Was Not Heard.

In The Different Voice Of Women Lies The Truth Of An Ethic Of Care, The Tie Between Relationship And Responsibility, And The Origins Of Aggression In The Failure Of Connection.

I've Found That If I Say What I'm Really Thinking And Feeling, People Are More Likely To Say What They Really Think And Feel. The Conversation Becomes A Real Conversation.

Trust Grows When Babies And Mothers Establish That They Can Find Each Other Again After The Inevitable Moments Of Losing Touch. It Is Not The Goodness Of The Mother Or The Relationship Per Se That Is The Basis For Trust; It Is The Ability Of Mother And Baby Together To Repair The Breaks In Their Relationship That Builds A Safe House For Love.