It is wrong to keep spelling out unnecessary choices that make women unconsciously resist either commitment or motherhood--and that hold back recognition of the needed social changes.

The feminist revolution had to be fought because women quite simply were stopped at a state of evolution far short of their human capacity.

The feminists had destroyed the old image of woman, but they could not erase the hostility, the prejudice, the discrimination that still remained.

The only way for a woman, as for a man, to find herself, to know herself as a person, is by creative work of her own.

It is perhaps beside the point to remark that bowling alleys and supermarkets have nursery facilities, while schools and colleges and scientific laboratories and government offices do not.

The unpleasant image of the feminists today resembles less the feminists themselves than the image fostered by the interests who so bitterly opposed the vote for women...

If stupidity were a gift, only a few would have it.

Every technology, including the printing press, comes at some price.

We must learn from the sermons of Christ, the wisdom of Laotzu, the teachings of Buddha.

Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal which the reader recognizes as his own.

He who look at a woman who is not his wife as a mother; wealth that is not his as dust and all the men as himself... is a happy man. He, who sees all these things under a different light, is a blind.

I think people, for the most part, actually want what they think is best.

The high-definition picture is still a perspective picture. That's the real problem, the perspective picture.

I was amazed at how easy it was for the Clinton Administration to basically cover what they did at Waco in the fog of lies and avoid any responsibility for it.

It's very unlikely that a writer is going to make a living by writing. So then the question is: how do you balance work, life, and writing? If you find out, please tell me.

[On journalists:] We are a noisy, imperfect lot, struggling to scribble what has been called the first draft of history.