Katherine Mansfield

Wasting time. The old cry – the first and last cry – why do ye tarry? Ah, why indeed? My deepest desire is to be a writer, to have “a body of work” done And there the work is, there the stories wait for me, grow tired, wilt, fade because I will not come. And I hear and acknowledge them, and still I go on sitting at the window, playing with a ball of wool.