Silence carries your name; it glows in the dark over my grey-blue dreams.
“To return for a moment to that silly caricature — Virginia the gloomy malcontent — let me say once and for all that she was about the gayest human being I have known and one of the most lovable.”
-Clive Bell, pictured with a frolicking Virginia Woolf above.
Instead I will say, “Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers; take me to your deaths.” These are worth it. These are what I have come for.”
— Margaret Atwood
I do think it is a gender thing. I intuited that writers like Beckett and Burroughs were not keen on that terrible old phrase – the pram in the hall. When I was a teenager, I was reading about how to live. I couldn’t fit my sloppy, messy, hopeful, female side into that austere, male framework.