Only Where There Is Language Is There

No One Has Imagined Us. We Want To Live Like Trees, Sycamores Blazing Through The Sulfuric Air, Dappled With Scars, Still Exuberantly Budding, Our Animal Passion Rooted In The City.

To Work And Suffer Is To Be At Home. All Else Is Scenery.

Art Means Nothing If It Simply Decorates The Dinner Table Of Power Which Holds It Hostage.

War Is An Absolute Failure Of Imagination, Scientific And Political.

The Connections Between And Among Women Are The Most Feared, The Most Problematic, And The Most Potentially Transforming Force On The Planet.