little women

What about writing? What about it? What are you working on? I started something, but I don't think it's very good. Everyone likes what you write. No, they don't. I do. Well, it's just about our little life. So? Who would be interested in a story of domestic struggles and joys? It doesn't have any real importance, does it? Maybe it doesn't seem important because people don't write about them. When I get in a passion, I get so savage I could hurt anyone, and I'd enjoy it. I burned your book! I told you I'd make you pay! And I did! And I hate her! I will hate her forever! You remind me of myself. But you're never angry. I'm angry nearly every day of my life. Not far from here lives a poor young woman, Mrs. Hummel. Her five children are in one bed to keep from freezing, and there's nothing to eat. My girls, will you give them your breakfast as a Christmas present? Is this where you say that Father would want us to? Yes. Well, I believe we have some power with what we love. It isn't something that just happens to a person. I think the poets might disagree. Well, I'm not a poet. I'm just a woman. And as a woman, there's no way for me to make my own money. I don't mean to waste your money, but I can't resist. When I see Sally buying all she wants and pitying me because I don't, well, I only sold what was my own. And I'm tired of being poor. Not enough to earn a living or to support my family. What is it, huh? It's my hair. I would feel the same way. I know you would. And if I had my own money, which I don't, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. And if we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property, so don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. No, no one makes their own way. Not really. Least of all a woman. You'll need to marry well. You are not married, Aunt Marge. Well, that's because I'm rich. I hope you will be happy now that you've ruined your life the same way your mother did, by marrying your father. Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they've got ambition, and they've got talent, as well as just beauty. And I'm so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for. I'm so sick of it. But I'm so lonely. Sorry. I know. It's like the tide going out. It goes out slowly, but it can't be stopped. That was the best of us. You really messed her up. I know. No, we put a stuck in, can't get it out! I'm a joke! Why little women?