Marge Piercy
Marge Piercy
Marge Piercyis an American poet, novelist, and social activist. Piercy is the author of Woman on the Edge of Time; He, She and It, which won the 1993 Arthur C. Clarke Award; and Gone to Soldiers, a New York Times Best Seller and sweeping historical novel set during World War II...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth31 March 1936
CountryUnited States of America
daughter perseverance children
This life is a war we are not yet winning for our daughters' children. Don't do your enemies' work for them. Finish your own.
couple evolve species
Like species, couples die out or evolve.
ideas done want
Love says, mine. Love says, I could eat you up. Love says, stay as you are, be my own private thing, don't you dare have ideas I don't share. Love has just got to gobble the other, bones and all, crunch. I don't want to do that. I sure don't want it done to me!
sex war play
If sex is a war, I am a conscientious objector: I will not play.
silence seeing
The price of seeing is silence.
eye angel brain
When I work I am pure as an angel tiger and clear is my eye and hot my brain and silent all the whining grunting piglets of the appetites.
imagine utopia knows
We can only know what we can truly imagine. Finally what we see comes from ourselves.
self views trying
Too much self-regard has never struck me as dignified: trying to twist over my shoulder to view my own behind.
loyalty party political
The incidence of violent brand-loyalty to one's own current dogma has risen.
pain turn-me turns
Pain is a forcing sieve that turns me to gruel.
strong-women eye justice
A strong woman is a woman at work, cleaning out the cesspool of the ages, and while she shovels, she talks about how she doesn't mind crying, it opens the ducts of the eyes, and throwing up develops the stomach muscles, and she goes on shoveling with tears in her nose.
beautiful dark hair
The anger of the weak never goes away, Professor, it just gets a little moldy. It molds like a beautiful blue cheese in the dark, growing stronger, and more interesting. The poor and the weak die with all their anger intact and probably those angers go on growing in the dark of the grave like the hair and the nails.
sexy lying eye
We lie in each other's arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.
yams brass curry
In her bottled up is a woman peppery as curry, a yam of a woman of butter and brass,