Waging War Is Not A Primary Physical

The Hope You Feel When You Are In Love Is Not Necessarily For Anything In Particular. Love Brings Something Inside You To Life. Perhaps It Is Just The Full Dimensionality Of Your Own Capacity To Feel That Returns. In This State You Think No Impediment Can Be Large Enough To Interrupt Your Passion. The Feeling Spills Beyond The Object Of Your Love To Color The Whole World. The Mood Is Not Unlike The Mood Of Revolutionaries In The First Blush Of Victory, At The Dawn Of Hope. Anything Seems Possible. And In The Event Of Failure, It Will Be This Taste Of Possibility That Makes Disillusion Bitter.

Just As The Slave Master Required The Slaves To Imitate The Image He Had Of Them, So Women, Who Live In A Relatively Powerless Position, Politically And Economically, Feel Obliged By A Kind Of Implicit Force To Live Up To Culture's Image Of What Is Female.

Is It A Coincidence That Stories From The Private Life Became More Popular Just As The Grand Hope For Public Redemption Through Revolution Was Beginning To Sour? I Witnessed A Similar Shift In Taste In My Own Time. In The 1960s, While A Hopeful Vision Of A Just Society Arose Again, Countless Poems And Plays Concerning Politics And Public Life Were Written, Read, And Performed. But After The Hope Diminished And Public Life Seemed Less And Less Trustworthy, This Subject Was Less In Style.

We Keep Secrets From Ourselves That All Along We Know.

Every Important Social Movement Reconfigures The World In The Imagination. What Was Obscure Comes Forward, Lies Are Revealed, Memory Shaken, New Delineations Drawn Over The Old Maps: It Is From This New Way Of Seeing The Present That Hope Emerges For The Future...let Us Begin To Imagine The Worlds We Would Like To Inhabit, The Long Lives We Will Share, And The Many Futures In Our Hands.