Every day, a piece of music, a short story, or a poem dies because its existence is no longer justified in our time. And things that were once considered immortal have become mortal again, no one knows them anymore. Even though they deserve to survive.

Sunday, the day for the language of leisure.

I have the feeling it will influence my future writing to the extent that without any material worries I could develop a greater ease, even lightheartedness, in my writing

I do not fight against men, but against the system that is sexist.

I cannot stand public attention, I just can't. Of course, if I may I might write something instead

Every day, a piece of music, a short story, or a poem dies because its existence is no longer justified in our time. And things that were once considered immortal have become mortal again, no one knows them anymore. Even though they deserve to survive.

It could draw from a greater reservoir of freedom. The irony could develop an even greater ease.