“Now, the only song a woman knows is the song she learns at birth,
a sorrowin’ song, with the words all wrong, in the many tongues of Earth.
The things a woman wants to say, the tales she longs to tell . . .
they take all day in the tongues of Earth, and half of the night as well.
So nobody listens to what a woman says, except the men of power
who sit and listen right willingly, at a hundred dollars an hour . . .
sayin’ “Who on Earth would want to talk about such foolish things?”
Oh, the tongues of Earth don’t lend themselves to the songs a woman sings!
There’s a whole lot more to a womansong, a whole lot more to learn;
but the words aren’t there in the tongues of Earth, and there’s noplace else to turn. . . .
So the woman they talk, and the men they laugh, and there’s little a woman can say,
but a sorrowin’ song with the words all wrong, and a hurt that won’t go away.
The women go workin’ the manly tongues, in the craft of makin’ do, but the women that stammer, they’re everywhere, and the wellspoken ones are few. . . .
’Cause the only song a woman knows is the song she learns at birth;
a sorrowin’ song with the words all wrong, in the manly tongues of Earth.
(a 20th century ballad, set to an even older tune called “House of the Rising Sun”; this later form was known simply as “Sorrowin’ Song, With the Words All Wrong”)”
― Native Tongue
a sorrowin’ song, with the words all wrong, in the many tongues of Earth.
The things a woman wants to say, the tales she longs to tell . . .
they take all day in the tongues of Earth, and half of the night as well.
So nobody listens to what a woman says, except the men of power
who sit and listen right willingly, at a hundred dollars an hour . . .
sayin’ “Who on Earth would want to talk about such foolish things?”
Oh, the tongues of Earth don’t lend themselves to the songs a woman sings!
There’s a whole lot more to a womansong, a whole lot more to learn;
but the words aren’t there in the tongues of Earth, and there’s noplace else to turn. . . .
So the woman they talk, and the men they laugh, and there’s little a woman can say,
but a sorrowin’ song with the words all wrong, and a hurt that won’t go away.
The women go workin’ the manly tongues, in the craft of makin’ do, but the women that stammer, they’re everywhere, and the wellspoken ones are few. . . .
’Cause the only song a woman knows is the song she learns at birth;
a sorrowin’ song with the words all wrong, in the manly tongues of Earth.
(a 20th century ballad, set to an even older tune called “House of the Rising Sun”; this later form was known simply as “Sorrowin’ Song, With the Words All Wrong”)”
― Native Tongue
“Life has a way of talking to the future. It’s called memory. It’s called genes.”
― The Overstory
― The Overstory
“There's a Chinese saying. 'When is the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago.' "
The Chinese engineer smiles. "Good one."
" 'When is the next best time? Now.' "
"Ah! Okay!" The smile turns real. Until today, he has never planted anything. But Now, that next best of times, is long, and rewrites everything.”
― The Overstory
The Chinese engineer smiles. "Good one."
" 'When is the next best time? Now.' "
"Ah! Okay!" The smile turns real. Until today, he has never planted anything. But Now, that next best of times, is long, and rewrites everything.”
― The Overstory
“What you make from a tree should be at least as miraculous as what you cut down.”
― The Overstory
― The Overstory
“To be human is to confuse a satisfying story with a meaningful one, and to mistake life for something huge with two legs. No: life is mobilized on a vastly larger scale, and the world is failing precisely because no novel can make the contest for the world seem as compelling as the struggles between a few lost people.”
― The Overstory
― The Overstory
Morgan’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Morgan’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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