My Mother Died Happily Of A Stroke

I Am Interested Only In Stretching Myself, On Living As Fully As I Can.

Writers, And Particularly Female Writers, Have To Fight For The Conditions They Need To Work.

But It Isn't Only The Terror Everywhere, And The Fear Of Being Conscious Of It, That Freezes People. It's More Than That. People Know They Are In A Society Dead Or Dying. They Are Refusing Emotion Because At The End Of Very Emotion Are Property, Money, Power. They Work And Despise Their Work, And So Freeze Themselves. They Love But Know That It's A Half- Love Or A Twisted Love, And So They Freeze Themselves.

For The Last Third Of Life There Remains Only Work. It Alone Is Always Stimulating, Rejuvenating, Exciting And Satisfying.

Time Is The River On Which The Leaves Of Our Thoughts Are Carried Into Oblivion.