When I go home my mother and I play a cannibal game; we eat each other over the years, tender morsel by morsel until… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
The Golden Arches of McDonald's rise, glorious across the landscape, contempo-monolithic, simple in concept as Stonehenge if we could but see it. — Maureen Howard Copy Share
Even when I was a grown woman, he [Father] would leave me on the edge of hysteria in all our arguments: though I married… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
Notable American Women is an enchanting and moving novel. Like Italo Calvino and Lewis Carrol, Ben Marcus reconfigures the world that we might see… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
The Catholic Church with its foreshortened American history and tangled puritanical roots was as inviolate to my mother and father as it was to… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
Wouldn't a laugh serve us better than to battle it out with our mortal souls? — Maureen Howard Copy Share
I have often caught sight of myself, my spine humped over, defining my hollowness, my head too heavy for my body, swinging like the… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
Acceptance is the word we must substitute for dependence in dealing with the aged. Their acceptance of help, ours of their need. — Maureen Howard Copy Share
The part we play is not as we want it, but as we are made-with the genitals God gave us. — Maureen Howard Copy Share
None of the adults I knew ever touched in public, much less kneaded each others flesh. — Maureen Howard Copy Share
It was unavoidable, my writing. I feel I had no choice in the matter, no more than I had about an unfortunate bone structure… — Maureen Howard Copy Share
