"Mothers." The man made a word sound like a curse. "I think birthing does something to your minds. You are all mad."

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Behind the violence of the birthing of galaxies and stars and planets came a quiet and tender melody, a gentle love song. All the raging of creation, the continuing hydrogen explosions on the countless suns, the heaving of planetary bodies, all was enfolded in a patient, waiting love.

— Madeleine L'Engle