Diane Wolkstein

“Oh God, let me not be cured of love, but let my passion grow! Let me love for love's sake!”

“With good reason, love's messengers, Eros and Kama, are armed with bows and long-distance arrows. No being, god or mortal, can choose love. Love comes despite ourselves; and then, if we have not already done so, we have the task of becoming our selves so we may welcome love.”

“Inanna spoke:"What I tell youLet the singer weave into song.What I tell you, Let it flow from ear to mouth,Let it pass from old to young:My vulva, the horn,The Boat of Heaven,Is full of eagerness like the young moon.My untilled land lies fallow.As for me, Inanna,Who will plow my vulva?Who will plow my high field?Who will plow my wet ground?As for me, the young woman,Who will plow my vulva?Who will station the ox there?Who will plow my vulva?"Dumuzi replied:"Great Lady, the king will plow your vulva.I, Dumuzi the King, will plow your vulva."Inanna:"Then plow my vulva, man of my heart!Plow my vulva!”