Explore Quotes by Marge Piercy

When I work I am pure as an angel tiger and clear is my eye and hot my brain and silent all the whining grunting piglets of the appetites.

Long hair is considered bohemian, which may be why I grew it, but I keep it long because I love the way it feels, part cloak, part fan, part mane, part security blanket.

Attention is love, what we must give children, mothers, fathers, pets, our friends, the news, the woes of others. What we want to change we curse and then pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can with eyes and hands and tongue. If you can't bless it, get ready to make it new.

In her bottled up is a woman peppery as curry, a yam of a woman of butter and brass.

The work of the world is common as mud.

If what we change does not change us we are playing with blocks.

My idea of Hell is to be young again.

We seek not rest but transformation. We are dancing through each other as doorways.

It hurts to love wide open stretching the muscles... It hurts to thwart the reflexes of grab, of clutch; to love and let go again and again.

You are built to pull a cart, to lift a heavy load and bear it, to haul up the long slope, and so am I, peasant bodies, earthy, solid shapely dark glazed clay pots that can stand on the fire.

The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.

A strong woman is a woman determined to do something others are determined not be done.

Life is the first gift, love is the second, and understanding the third.

My strength and my weakness are twins in the same womb.

The real writer is one who really writes. Talent is an invention like phlogiston after the fact of fire. Work is its own cure. You have to like it better than being loved.

Shared laughter is erotic too.

Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen:_x000D_reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in._x000D_This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always,_x000D_for every gardener knows that after the digging, after_x000D_the planting,_x000D_after the long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes.

Doorways are sacred to women for we are the doorways of life and we must choose what comes in and what goes out.

Every baby born_x000D_ unloved, unwanted, is a bill that will come_x000D_ due in twenty years with interest, an anger_x000D_ that must find a target, a pain that will_x000D_ beget pain. A decade downstream a child_x000D_ screams, a woman falls, a synagogue is torched,_x000D_ a firing squad is summoned, a button_x000D_ is pushed and the world burns.

The work of the world is common as mud._x000D_Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust._x000D_But the thing worth doing well done_x000D_has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.

Shall I tell you something I've been noticing? The mistrust this society has for women. All kinds of experts and officials are terrified because so many women are working. They really think that women have to be coerced into having babies and raising kids.