Every Woman Who Writes Is A Survivor.

It Is Distraction, Not Meditation, That Becomes Habitual; Interruption, Not Continuity; Spasmodic, Not Constant Toil.

Women Have The Right To Say: This Is Surface, This Falsifies Reality, This Degrades.

I Very Much Dislike The Word "race," And I Never Use It. I Use The Word "racist." Race Is Not A Fact. There Is Only One Race: Human. Skin Color Is Less Than 2 Percent Of The Dna.

There Are Worse Words Than Cuss-words, There Are Words That Hurt.

Literary History And The Present Are Dark With Silences . . . I Have Had Special Need To Learn All I Could Of This Over The Years, Myself So Nearly Remaining Mute And Having To Let Writing Die Over And Over Again In Me. These Are Not Natural Silences--what Keats Called Agonie Ennuyeuse (the Tedious Agony)--that Necessary Time For Renewal, Lying Fallow, Gestation, In The Natural Cycle Of Creation. The Silences I Speak Of Here Are Unnatural: The Unnatural Thwarting Of What Struggles To Come Into Being, But Cannot.