Since we're not young, weeks have to do time for years of missing each other.Yet only this odd warp in time tells me we're not young..

Re-vision -- the act of looking back, of seeing with fresh eyes, of entering an old text from a new critical direction - is for women more than a cha….

One line typed twenty years ago can be blazed on a wall in spraypaint to glorify art as detachment or torture of those we did not love but also did n….

In this disintegrative, technologically-manic time, when public language is so debased, poetry continues to matter because it's the art that reintegr….

I do not think [poetry] is more, or less, necessary than food, shelter, health, education, decent working conditions. It is as necessary..

The ocean, whose tides respond, like women's menses, to the pull of the moon, the ocean which corresponds to the amniotic fluid in which human life b….

In [family snapshots] the flow of profane time has been stopped and a sacred interval of self-conscious revelation has been cut from it by the edge o….

Those who speak largely of the human condition are usually those most exempt from its oppressions - whether of sex, race, or servitude..

Writers matter in a society to the extent that we can help that society hear its unvoiced longing, encounter its erased and disregarded selves, break….

Our personalities seem dangerously to blur and overlap with our mother's; and, in a desperate attempt to know where mother ends and daughter begins, ….

Mothers and daughters have always exchanged with each other - beyond the verbally transmitted lore of female survival - a knowledge that is sublimina….

To seek visions, to dream dreams, is essential, and it is also essential to try new ways of living, to make room for serious experimentation, to resp….

Go back so far there is another language go back far enough the language is no longer personal..

It is the lesbian in us who is creative, for the dutiful daughter of the fathers in us is only a hack..

If you think you can grasp me, think again: my story flows in more than one direction, a delta springing from the river bed with its five fingers spr….

But before we were mothers, we have been, first of all, women, with actual bodies and actual minds..

I've had to guess at her, sewing her skin together as I sew mine, though with a different stitch.

The unconscious wants truth. It ceases to speak to those who want something else more than truth..

Experience is always larger than language..

I am the androgyne, I am the living mind you fail to describe in your dead language the lost noun, the verb surviving only in the infinitive the lett….

It is the suffering of ambivalence: the murderous alternation between bitter resentment and raw-edged nerves, and blissful gratification and tenderne….