Quotes from Eve Merriam

Morning is a new sheet of paper for you to write on.

I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, Mother, what was war?

Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away.

When something is too beautiful or too terrible or even too funny for words, then it is time for poetry.

I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?"

I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, Mother, what was war?