One of the best gifts you can give a poet is to present them with field guides - to rocks, to stars,… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
I stayed under the moon too long.I am silvered with lust.Dreams flick like minnows through my eyes.My voice is trees tossing in… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
You are built to pull a cart, to lift a heavy load and bear it, to haul up the long slope, and… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Nobody can live on a bridge or plant potatoes but it is fine for comings and goings, meetings, partings and long views… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Writing is a futile attempt to preserve what disappears moment by moment. All that remains of my mother is what I remember… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
The sense of being Jewish never left me, but when my grandmother died, I rebelled against Judaism as I knew it then,… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen: reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in. This is how we… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Now that I am in my forties, she [my mother] tells me I'm beautiful; now that I am in my forties, she… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Long hair is considered bohemian, which may be why I grew it, but I keep it long because I love the way… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
The anger of the weak never goes away, Professor, it just gets a little moldy. It molds like a beautiful blue cheese in the… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
“The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Every poet has a certain amount of "stuff." That's what you draw from for imagery. The more stuff you know well, not simply intellectually… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
the body is simple as a turtle / and straight as a dog: / the body cannot lie. — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
We must shine with hope, stained glass windows that shape light into icons, glow like lanterns borne before a procession. Who can bear hope… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Remember that every son had a mother whose beloved son he was, and every woman had a mother whose beloved son she wasn't. — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
We live in a media soup and are constantly being programmed or are fighting that programming. Thus any truthful account of a life, every… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
The moon is always female and so am I although often in the vale of razorblades I have wished I could put on and… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Sometimes when a character in a novel is difficult for me to enter, I sue something in myself or in my own life as… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Doorways are sacred to women for we are the doorways of life and we must choose what comes in and what goes out. — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
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