I was an artist all right, but not a good enough one to count; had I been a shopkeeper I might have sold my goods." "Well, then, here's your question, Miss Cardinal.

Why on earth did I go on writing?
...

Simply because I couldn't help myself.

Writing was the only thing in the world that gave me happiness.

I thought too that there might be people, here and there, unknown to me who cared for what I did.