Randy: …you’ve really gotten off on the wrong track! I mean you really ought to stop writing and have a baby. You’ll find it so much more fulfilling than writing.
Isadora: Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.
Randy: What do you mean?
Isadora: Look, Randy. It may seem absurd to someone with nine children, but I really don’t miss having children. I mean I love your kids and Chloe’s and Lalah’s, but I’m really happy with my work for the moment and I don’t want any more fulfillment just now. It took me years  to learn to sit at my desk for more than two minutes at a time, to put up with solitude and the terror of failure, and the godawful silence and the white paper. And now that I can take it…now that I can finally do it…I’m really raring to go. I don’t want anything to interfere right now. Jesus Christ! It took me so long to get to this point!
Randy: Is that really how you expect to spend the rest of your life? Sitting in a room writing?
Isadora: Well why not? What makes it any worse than having nine kids?