I Have Been Asked, Politely And Not

Under Patriarchy, Every Woman's Son Is Her Potential Betrayer And Also The Inevitable Rapist Or Exploiter Of Another Woman.

I Love, Cherish, And Respect Women In My Mind, In My Heart, And In My Soul. This Love Of Women Is The Soil In Which My Life Is Rooted. It Is The Soil Of Our Common Life Together. My Life Grows Out Of This Soil. In Any Other Soil, I Would Die. In Whatever Ways I Am Strong, I Am Strong Because Of The Power And Passion Of This Nurturant Love.

Romantic Love, In Pornography As In Life, Is The Mythic Celebration Of Female Negation. For A Woman, Love Is Defined As Her Willingness To Submit To Her Own Annihilation.... The Proof Of Love Is That She Is Willing To Be Destroyed By The One Whom She Loves, For His Sake. For The Woman, Love Is Always Self-sacrifice, The Sacrifice Of Identity, Will, And Bodily Integrity, In Order To Fulfill And Redeem The Masculinity Of Her Lover.

Feminist Art Is Not Some Tiny Creek Running Off The Great River Of Real Art. It Is Not Some Crack In An Otherwise Flawless Stone. It Is, Quite Spectacularly, Art Which Is Not Based On The Subjugation Of One Half Of The Species.

It Is A Tragedy Beyond The Power Of Language To Convey When What Has Been Imposed On Women By Force Becomes A Standard Of Freedom For Women: And All The Women Say It Is So.