This Is Intimacy: The Trading

A Woman's Place Is In The Kitchen...sitting In A Comfortable Chair, With Her Feet Up, Drinking A Glass Of Wine And Watching Her Husband Cook Dinner.

I've Been Screwed And Sued And Tattooed, And I'm Still Standin' Here In Front Of You.

We Have Hands; We Can Stand On Them If We Want To. That's Our Privilege. That's The Joy Of A Mortal Body. And That's Why God Needs Us. Because God Loves To Feel Things Through Our Hands.

I Push Every Day Against Forces That Say You Have To Go Faster, Be More Effective, Be More Productive, You Have To Constantly Outdo Yourself, You Have To Constantly Outdo Your Neighbor - All Of The Stuff That Creates An Incredibly Productive Society, But Also A Very Neurotic One.

They Flank Me - Depression On My Left, Loneliness On My Right. They Don't Need To Show Their Badges. I Know These Guys Very Well. ... Then They Frisk Me. They Empty My Pockets Of Any Joy I Had Been Carrying There. Depression Even Confiscates My Identity; But He Always Does That.