“Daughters of the Moon,children of the Night,rise like dew togetheruntil the morning's light.The owl's cry is our anthem,our altar is the sky.The Great Mystery is our Motherto whom now, sisters, fly.”

“There may come a time when you will wish you had never tasted the fruit from the tree of knowledge. There may even come a time when you will lie about who took the first bite.”

“Women without children are also the best of mothers,often, with the patience,interest, and saving grace that the constant relationship with children cannot always sustain. I come to crave our talk and our daughters gain precious aunts. Women who are not mothering their own children have the clarity and focus to see deeply into the character of children webbed by family. A child is fortuante who feels witnessed as a peron,outside relationships with parents by another adult.”

“Aim at the sun and you may not reach it; but your arrow will fly far higher than if you had aimed at an object on a level with yourself.”

“Another of them died last night. His body was in the bazaar this morning. It lay, with a collecting bowl at its feet, on the charpoy that is reserved for those who die without money or family to bury them. He looked desiccated and his skin had the sheen and color of the dates we eat to break our fast. There are new bodies on that charpoy every week. ”

“All of our actions have in their doing the seed of their undoing. ... That in her creation of her children there should be the unspeakable promise of their death, for by their birth she had created mortal beings.”

“Before we love with our heart, we already love with our imagination. ”