Women In Drudgery Knew They

The Heavy Sensual Shoulders, The Thighs, The Blood-born Flesh And Earth Turning Into Color, Rocks Into Their Crystals, Water To Sound, Fire To Form: Life Flickers Uncounted Into The Supple Arms Of Love.

Dreams Are The Sources Of Action, The Meeting And The End, A Resting Place Among The Flight Of Things.

What Would Happen If One Woman Told The Truth About Her Life? The World Would Split Open.

I Think There Is A Choice Possible To Us At Any Moment, As Long As We Live. But There Is No Sacrifice. There Is A Choice, And The Rest Falls Away. Second Choice Does Not Exist. Beware Of Those Who Talk About Sacrifice.

There Has Been In Our Time A Lack Of Reliance On Language And A Lack Of Experimentation Which Are Frightening To Anyone Who Sees Them As Symptoms. We Know The Phenomenon Of Stage-fright: It Holds The Player Shivering, Incapable Of Speech Or Action. Perhaps There Is An Audience-fright Which The Play Can Feel, Which Leaves Him With These Incapacities.