I Am Not So Different In My

Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.

We Are The Bird's Eggs. Bird's Eggs, Flowers, Butterflies, Rabbits, Cows, Sheep, We Are Caterpillars; We Are Leaves Of Ivy And Springs Of Wildflower. We Are Women. We Rise From The Wave. We Are Gazelle And Doe, Elephant And Whale, Lilies And Roses And Peach, We Are Air, We Are Flame, We Are Oyster And Pearl, We Are Girls. We Are Woman And Nature. And He Says He Cannot Hear Us Speak. But We Hear.

Susan Bordo’s Unbearable Weight Is A Masterpiece Of Complex An Nuanced Thinking Not Only About A Significant Problem That Faces Women But About Our Culture. A Very Valuable Book.

The Hard Surface Of The Stone Is Impervious To Nothing In The End. The Heat Of The Sun Leaves Evidence Of Daylight. Each Drop Of Rain Changes The Form; Even The Wind And The Air Itself, Invisible To Our Eyes, Etches Its Presence. … All History Is Taken In By Stones.

Is It A Coincidence That Stories From The Private Life Became More Popular Just As The Grand Hope For Public Redemption Through Revolution Was Beginning To Sour? I Witnessed A Similar Shift In Taste In My Own Time. In The 1960s, While A Hopeful Vision Of A Just Society Arose Again, Countless Poems And Plays Concerning Politics And Public Life Were Written, Read, And Performed. But After The Hope Diminished And Public Life Seemed Less And Less Trustworthy, This Subject Was Less In Style.