A Writer Is A Foreign Country

A Woman's Work, From The Time She Gets Up To The Time She Goes To Bed, Is As Hard As A Day At War, Worse Than A Man's Working Day. ... To Men, Women's Work Was Like The Rain-bringing Clouds, Or The Rain Itself. The Task Involved Was Carried Out Every Day As Regularly As Sleep. So Men Were Happy - Men In The Middle Ages, Men At The Time Of The Revolution, And Men In 1986: Everything In The Garden Was Lovely.

Words Don't Change Their Shape, They Change Their Meaning, Their Function...they Don't Have A Meaning Of Their Own Any More, They Refer To Other Words That You Don't Know, That You've Never Read Or Heard...you've Never Seen Their Shape, But You Feel...you Suspect...they Correspond To...an Empty Space Inside You...or In The Universe.

You Alone Became The Outer Surface Of My Life, The Side I Never See, And You Will Be That, The Unknown Part Of Me, Until I Die.

Even So You Have Managed To Live That Love In The Only Way Possible For You. Losing It Before It Happened.

He Wanted To Pay Her; He Thought Women Ought To Be Paid For Keeping Men From Dying Or Going Out Of Their Minds.