The kind of power mothers have is enormous. Take the skyline of Istanbul - enormous breasts, pathetic little willies, a final revenge on Islam. I was so scared I had to crouch in the bottom of the boat when I saw it.

Language is power, life and the instrument of culture, the instrument of domination and liberation.

He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.

Many mothers are unaware they have the power themselves to provide enough milk for their own baby, let alone to have more than they might need and be able to help another baby.

One of the boys' mothers helped with the [claymation] class, and that got him more interested in the language, ... He'd never been interested in speaking the language before.

Remember - the universal language is not texted, emailed, or spoken. It is felt.