All my writing is about the recognition that there is no single reality. But the beauty of it is that you nevertheless go on, walking towards utopia, which may not exist, on a bridge which might end before you reach… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
All creatures are flawed, but out of the flaw may come the universe. — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I never thought of myself as either a woman or a man. I thought of myself as a person who was born to a… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I knew Anais Nin, who called me after I had been away for a few years. She was seeking help because at that time… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I think there is a rage against women. I've come to see that now although at the time I did not notice it. I… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
“Once when Newton was away from his astronomical laboratory, he had returned to find that his little poodle dog Diamond had torn into shreds… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
If you know anything about James Whitcomb Riley, you know that Little Orphan Annie is one of the most fantastic characters who ever lived… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
There were also some cruel reviews by women, but the tone of the male reviewers, sometimes hysterical, was different. I have suffered, but I… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I try to teach my students style, but always as a part of life, not as ornament. Style has to come out of communicating… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I've been willing to go for years without publishing. That's been my career. — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I don't believe there can be a poetic novel without political consciousness. I have a strong political conscience. — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
I would teach from nine to four, sleep an hour, and write from six until midnight, night after night. — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
The first money I ever had was when I received an award from the American Association of University Women. — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
“The bus-driver was whistling, perhaps in anticipation of his wife, who would be a woman with ample breasts, those of a realized maturity. It… — Marguerite Young Copy Share Image
