Trees, their incremental gymnastics and noisy silence, are another wonder of Outside to me.

Always, it is the poor people who pay. And always, it is the poor people's women who pay the most.

We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love.

The potatoes were starch grenades. The canned carrots were revolting because that is their nature.

A weapon men use against women is the refusal to take them seriously.

The novelist is more like a pregnant woman who delivers her own child unaided. A messy procedure, with lots of groaning.