"Do you write novels?" I said. "Novels, Lord no," she said. "I can't even stay married."

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And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? -

— T. S. Eliot