She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns. — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
Sisterhood - that is, primary and bonding love from women - is, like motherhood, a capacity, not a destiny. It must be chosen, exercised… — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
Sweep the garden, any size, said the roshi. Sweeping, sweeping alone as the garden grows large or small. Any song sung working the garden… — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
When you died I didn't weep nor dream but knew you like a god breathe in each healing we begin. — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
I am a woman / who understands / the necessity of an impulse whose goal or origin / still lie beyond me. — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
Even when I cannot write, I know I am still a writer, just the way I know I am still sexual even if I… — Olga Broumas Copy Share Image
