The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked.

And when is there time to remember, to sift, to weigh, to estimate, to total?

I know that I haven't powers enough to divide myself into one who earns and one who creates.

I could not live by literature if only to begin with, because of the slow maturing of my work and its special character.

Be critical. Women have the right to say:
This is surface, this falsifies reality, this degrades.

Time granted does not necessarily coincide with time that can be most fully used.