We cannot even recollect the actions of our infancy, our childhood is like something written on a slate and rubbed off.
In a bid for change, we have to take off our coats, be prepared to lose our comfort and security, our jobs and positions of prestige, and our families… A struggle without casualties is no struggle.
Fascist movements kill off their critics, literally or metaphorically, while democratic movements value, invite and even welcome criticism.
We reward people for making money off money, and moving money around and dividing up mortgages a thousand times over, selling it to China… and it becomes this shell game.
What a man is is an arrow into the future, and what a woman is is the place the arrow shoots off from.
I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown.
I think the only advice I can give you on how to live your life well is, first off, remember… it’s not the things we do in life that we regret on our deathbed, it is the things we do not.
I’ve got a woman’s ability to stick to a job and get on with it when everyone else walks off and leaves it.
Once I start writing about something, it goes off rather fast, and sometimes details which might be interesting such as what the room looked like or what somebody said that was not exactly on the same subject tend to get lost.
I don’t look on poetry as closed works. I feel they’re going on all the time in my head and I occasionally snip off a length.