The greatest feminists have also been the greatest lovers. I'm thinking not only of Mary Wollstonecraft and her daughter Mary Shelley, but of Anais Nin, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and of course Sappho. You cannot divide creative juices from human juices. And as long as juicy women are equated with bad women, we will err on the side of being bad.

Someday every woman will have orgasms- like every family has color TV- and we can all get on with the business of life.

You don't have to beat a woman if you can make her feel guilty.

I could become servile, cloying, saccharinely sweet: the whole package of lies that passes in the world as femininity.

Blush like you mean it

Men have always detested women's gossip because they suspect the truth: their measurements are being taken and compared.