I am just too much.

It is so hard because I literally put in so much work. I put in so much work for that story. But now it seems that my head is overlooking my work. You guys are not focused on my craft. You guys are more focused on my physicality and my head. I literally work so hard, but you know

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.

You cannot give me too much work; to accumulate work has almost become a passion with me: my study is so full of it now, that there is hardly an inch of room for any more. I shall have to throw out a wing soon.

And I am careful of my work, too. Why, some of the work that I have by me now has been in my possession for years and years, and there isn’t a finger-mark on it. I take a great pride in my work; I take it down now and then and dust it. No man keeps his work in a better state of preservation than I do.

But, though I crave for work, I still like to be fair. I do not ask for more than my proper share.

I'm just thinking too fast — much too fast.

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.

It's all too much.

I look at Death Proof and realize I had too much time.

You think too much.'

'I suppose I do; but I can’t help it, my mind is so terribly active. When I give myself, I give myself. I pay the penalty in my headaches, my famous headaches — a perfect circlet of pain! But I carry it as a queen carries her crown.

You may discover that part of your problem is that you accept too much work and do not say no enough times.

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.

6050. Your Head's so hot, that your Brains bubble over.

I’ve been too fucking busy, and vice versa.

The words I speak are too big for my mouth, they tear it; the load of destiny I bear is too heavy for my youth and has shattered it.

For I have had too much
Of apple-picking:I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.