She shrugged her shoulders. 'All right then, at nine-thirty. But what's the use of being famous and everything if you don't take any time out to live?'
'To live!' he thought as she turned on her heels and walked briskly away. 'To them that always means only one thing; to spend your time with them. But there's more than one way of living!'
idk why this speaks to me so much but it does. it also feels very misguided - he sees women as enemies in some way, sees their demands on his time as an attack