Erica Jong Quotes
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Sex doesn't disappear, it just changes forms.
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Why do analysts always answer a question with a question?
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Singularity shows something wrong in the mind.
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Without the gods, how would I sing?' I asked. With your own voice,' he said.
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I have a very sensitive nose. I identify with dogs. I understand the world through my nose.
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I knew I was in England by the smell.
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It is for this, partly, that I write. How can I know what I think unless I see what I write.
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Conflict is the soul of literature.
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I look forward and see myself look back.
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From Roman times to the present, Italy has been a country to fall in love with - a tribute to all that is enduring, crazy, pagan, joyous, melancholy, at once banal and divine, in the human spirit.
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It was easy enough to kill yourself in a fit of despair. It was easy enough to play the martyr. It was harder to do nothing. To endure your life. To wait.
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Art is always an energy exchange.
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I don't think that sex necessarily produces intimacy.
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My generation of young female writers discovered that we could dictate the form and content of our own fiction.
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Poems, like dreams, are a sort of royal road to the unconscious. They tell you what your secret self cannot express.
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There is simply no dignified way for a woman to live alone. Oh, she can get along financially perhaps (though not nearly as well as a man), but emotionally she is never left in peace. Her friends, her family, her fellow workers never let her forget that her husbandlessness, her childlessness - her selfishness, in short - is a reproach to the American way of life.
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of all the foolish Fears of Humankind, Fear of the Future is by far the most foolish.
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I believe that there's a force of life in the universe, and that when we're writing or making music or painting, we're likely to connect with that flow.
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A baby's mother also needs a mother.
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The words carry their own momentum. A confession in motion tends to stay in motion. Newton's first law of jealousy.
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The bruise on the heart which at first feels incredibly tender to the slightest touch eventually turns all the shades of the rainbow and stops aching. We forget about it. We even forget we have hearts until the next time. And then we wonder how we ever could have forgotten. We think this one is better, because, in fact, we cannot fully remember the time before.
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We find our calling or it finds us, and it's a sin against the fates not to use your talent when you have it.
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If we are all made of God, it is our friends who remind us. We pass the gift of God to them. They pass it back to us when we need it most.
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The aim of my writing is to utterly remove the distance between author and reader so that the book becomes a sort of semipermeable membrane through which feelings, ideas, nutrients pass.