Sometimes when a character in a novel is difficult for me to enter, I sue something in myself or in my own… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
We're herded into schools and terrified into behaving. Taught how we're supposed to pretend to be, taught to parrot all kinds of… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
I will choose what enters me, what becomes flesh of my flesh. Without choice, no politics, no ethics lives. I am not… — 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
A strong woman is a woman at work, cleaning out the cesspool of the ages, and while she shovels, she talks about… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
The mind wraps itself around a poem. It is almost sensual, particularly if you work on a computer. You can turn the… — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
The best gift you can give is a hug: one size fits all and no one ever minds if you return it. — Marge Piercy Copy Share Image
Nobody hates us as ourselves. In their minds we're not human... They don't hate us because we did something or said something.… — 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
