I write against violence. I write against fascism. I write against one person dominating another..

He said that in a way being loved is like being told you never have to die..

All of this happened a long time ago. But not so long ago that everyone who played a part in it is dead. Some can still be met in dark old rooms with….

Elizabeth Hay has intelligence coming out of her fingertips - integrity, insight, and wonder in every paragraph of her writing.She connects. She stir….

Time is light, time is dark. You either dance, or you fall..

I doubt we will ever be forgiven. All I hope is – they'll remember we were human beings.

I still maintain that an ordinary human being has the right to be horrified by a mangled body seen on an afternoon walk..

Literature was intended to be dangerous. Art was meant to be dangerous. Ideas were nothing if they were not dangerous..

What you people who weren't yet born can never know is what it meant to sleep in cities under silent falls of snow when all night long the only sound….

Nothing so completely verifies our perception of a thing as our killing of it..

And what you do is you go into where your anger is, if you're writing anger, you go into where your hatred is, if you're writing hatred. Your joy is,….

There are no beginnings, not even to stories. There are only places where you make an entrance into someone else's life and either stay or turn and g….

In the dark that followed - Lucy said; "where I was born, the trees were always in the sun. And I left that place because it was intolerant of rain. ….

Everyone who’s born has come from the sea. Your mother’s womb is just a sea in small. And birds come of seas on eggs. Horses lie in the sea before th….

Think of any great man or woman. How can you separate them from the years in which they lived? You can't. Their greatness lies in their response to t….

They waited. The door did not open. The rain did not stop. The darkness made a tent and covered them completely..

... too much brooding, not enough doing..

Complaints about reality are immature..

The spaces between the perceiver and the thing perceived can [...] be closed with a shout of recognition..

People can only be found in what they do..