You had no right to be born; for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself, as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some other person's strength.
My movie is born first in my head, dies on paper; is resuscitated by the living persons and real objects I use, which are killed on film but, placed in a certain order and projected on to a screen, come to life again like flowers in water.
My heart goes out to many women that I've met across the country who barely make enough to make a living, and they want to have kids. That's very understandable, but what do you do with the kids?
If it's really so wonderful that both partners have to work to make a living to pay for their house, for health insurance, someone is obviously going to get the short end of the stick.
