The truth of our bodies and our minds has been mystified to us. We therefore have primary obligation to each other: not to undermine each other’s sense of reality for the sake of expediency; not to gaslight each other.
ADRIENNE RICHExperience is always larger than language.
More Adrienne Rich Quotes
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It is the lesbian in us who is creative, for the dutiful daughter of the fathers in us is only a hack.
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Art and literature have given so many people the relief of feeling connected – pulled us out of isolation. It has let us know that somebody else breathed and dreamed and had sex and loved and raged and knew loneliness the way we do.
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Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don’t know you know.
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The marriage-resisting women silk workers of pre-Revolutionary China, the millions of widows, midwives, and the women healers tortured and burned as witches for three centuries in Europe.
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You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it.
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Reality, the oppressor’s tongue.
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The [Vietnam War Memorial] Wall became a magnet for citizens of every generation, class, race, and relationship to the war perhaps because it is the only great public monument that allows the anesthetized holes in the heart to fill with a truly national grief.
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In America we have only the present tense. I am in danger. You are in danger.
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I am the androgyne, I am the living mind you fail to describe in your dead language the lost noun, the verb surviving only in the infinitive the letters of my name are written under the lids of the newborn child
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The repossession by women of our bodies will bring far more essential change to human society than the seizing of the means of production by workers.
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I feel more helpless with you than without you.
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“What do we want from each other/ after we have told our stories?” Where do we go to explore our stake with others in such a society?
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Can individual psychic wounds really heal in an abusive and fragmented society? Audre Lorde has a poem which begins,
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There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors. (I make up this strange, angry packet for you, threaded with love.) I think you thought there was no such place for you, and perhaps there was none then.
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What kind of beast would turn its life into words?
ADRIENNE RICH