so strong. But the question of practical daily living is not as simple as it was – or we thought it was. And we are both older. – Even you can’t do many things you could ten years ago. Maybe you did things then you shouldn’t have done… But there is no going back – Our work shows our spirit – We can see what we have “gained” – what we may have “lost” – We have grown – that I know.”
– Alfred Stieglitz (1864—1946), from a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe (1887—1986), Lake George, New York, dated July 13, 1928, in: “My Faraway One. Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz. Volume 1, 1915—1933″
“It’s a sin loving like that, absolutely and with the delirium…”
– Gabriela Mistral (1889—1957), from a letter to Doris Dana (1920—2006), dated December 1, 1949, in “Gabriela Mistral’s Letters to Doris Dana”, translated by Velma Garcia-Gorena
“Today I was hoping for news from you again; I thought there would be some but nothing came. Well, I hope perhaps on Monday. I am alone and am just very full of yearning for you.”
– Marie Bader (1886—1942), from a letter to Ernst Löwy (1880—1943), Karlín, dated Saturday evening, 2/8/1941, in: “Life and Love in Nazi Prague. Letters from an Occupied City. Marie Bader”, translated by Kate Ottevange
“My love, oh, my love, there’s nothing to dread when you’re with me – so I am writing this in vain, am I not? Everything will be all right, won’t it, my life?”
– Vladimir Nabokov (1899—1977), from a letter to Vera Nabokov (1902—1991), Prague, dated August 24, 1924, in: “Letters to Vera”, edited and translated from the Russian by Olga Voronina and Brian Boyd
“You are reading now I am thinking of your voice.”
– Paul Celan (1920—1970), from a letter to Ingeborg Bachmann (1926—1973), dated January 11, 1958
“I am so lonely I can hardly bear it. As one needs happiness so have I needed love; that is the deepest need of the human spirit. And as I love you utterly, so have you now become the whole world of my spirit. It is beside and beyond anything that you can ever do for me; it lies in what you are, dear love – to me so infinitely lovely that to be near you, to see you, hear you, is now the only happiness, the only life, I know. How long these hours are alone!
Yet is good for me to know the measure of my love and need, that I may at least be brought to so govern myself as never to lose the love and trust that you have given me.
Dear Frances, let us make and keep our love more beautiful than any love has ever been before.”
– Rockwell Kent (1882—1971), from a letter to his wife, Frances, dated 1926
“I have your letter, your dear letter that does me good with every word, that touches me as with a wave, so strong and surging, that surrounds me as with gardens and builds up heavens about me…”
– Rainer Maria Rilke (1875—1926), from a letter to Lou Andreas-Salomé (1861—1937), dated 1900, in: “Letters Of Rainer Maria Rilke, 1892—1910”, translated from the German by Bannard Greene
“Art is expectation. When there is no more to expect all is over. Like love.”
– Olga Freidenberg (1890—1955), from a letter to Boris Pasternak (1890—1960), Leningrad, dated April 11, 1954, in: “The Correspondence of Boris Pasternak and Olga Freidenberg, 1910—1954″, translated from the Russian by Elliott Mossman and Margaret Wettlin
“I do not know if one ought to surrender oneself so entirely to another human being. But you have over me a supernatural power against which it would be futile to fight. Do not abuse your power; you could easily make me unhappy, and I would have no weapons against you. Above all, I beseech you, never banish your slave from you.”
– A.W. Schlegel (1767—1845), from a letter to Germaine de Staël (1766—1817), Coppet, dated October 18, 1805, in: “Madame de Staël. Selected correspondence”, translated from the French by Kathleen Jameson-Cemper
“I have been so flattered and stimulated by your letter that I seem to want to write you not a sheet, but a whole ream.”
– Anton Chekhov (1860—1904), from a letter to Dmitry Grigorovich (1822—1900), Moscow, dated March 28, 1886, in: “The Selected Letters of Anton Chekhov”, translated from the Russian by Sidonie Lederer
“I am amazed by the immediacy of your understanding and its affinity to mine-instantaneous, developing parallel to mine, always confidently guiding you…”
– Boris Pasternak (1890—1960), from a letter to Olga Freidenberg (1890—1955), Moscow, dated November 30, 1948, in: “The Correspondence of Boris Pasternak and Olga Freidenberg, 1910—1954″, translated from the Russian by Elliott Mossman and Margaret Wettlin
“… we’re from opposite races, from very different backgrounds and opposing worldviews and sentiments. But despite all that I love you, just like that, though I’m not hopeful. This doesn’t prevent me from loving you.”
– Gabriela Mistral (1889—1957), from a letter to Doris Dana (1920—2006), dated November 28, 1949, in: “Gabriela Mistral’s Letters to Doris Dana”, translated by Velma Garcia-Gorena
“Beloved, forgive the typing errors because of the dusk. I am ashamed that today I have only written about myself and my worries – that happens when letters don’t arrive! I embrace you now very lovingly, kiss you many times in the usual way…”
– Marie Bader (1886—1942), from a letter to Ernst Löwy (1880—1943), Karlín, dated Saturday evening, August 2, 1941, in: “Life and Love in Nazi Prague. Letters from an Occupied City. Marie Bader”, translated by Kate Ottevange
“… being an eminent author is not so great a delight… it’s a gloomy life. Work from morning to night, and not much sense to it. … Money – as scarce as hen’s teeth.
But perhaps I want no one except you when I place poppies, a great many poppies, and memory, just as much as memory…”
– Paul Celan (1920—1970), from a letter to Ingeborg Bachmann (1926—1973), dated June 20, 1949
“While I – that is, all the years until now – was sure we would meet, it never would have entered my head or my hand to thus make you visible – to me and to others. You were my secret – from all eyes, even my own. And only when I closed my eyes – did I sec you – and I saw nothing else. 1 opened my eyes – into yours. It turns out that now I simply – have pulled you out of myself – and set you against the wall – like an artist sets up a canvas – maybe farther – and stepped back.”
– Marina Tsvetaeva (1892—1941), from a letter to Boris Pasternak (1890—1960), in: “Letters. Summer 1926. Boris Pasternak. Marina Tsvetaeva, Rainer Maria Rilke”, translated from the Russian by Margaret Wettlin, Walter Arndt, Jamey Gambrell
“excuse my dark writing… my love for you is different from your love for me; it’s of a very different type and category. Excuse those pages, dear. And for a few moments try to transport yourself to a soul who learned the bad habit of suffering and of having no hope in this world”
– Gabriela Mistral (1889—1957), from a letter to Doris Dana (1920—2006), dated December 1, 1949, in “Gabriela Mistral’s Letters to Doris Dana”, translated by Velma Garcia-Gorena
“Can one live peaceably, you say,