No one sings as purely as those who inhabit the deepest hell—what we take to be the song of angels is their song. — Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena. (Schocken; Rev Upd edition April 7, 1990) Advertisements
I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet. (Dover Publications May 8, 2002) Originally published 1929.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul? ― John Keats, Letters of John Keats. (Oxford University Press, July 15, 1970) Originally published January 1st 1954.
Summer? My memory flutters — had I — was there a summer? — Emily Dickinson, from a letter to J. G. Holland, The Letters of Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel Loomis Todd ( (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, September 28, 2015)
Diaries are very futile. I must be all dream or all deed. It is quite impossible for me to express any of the beauty I feel to half the degree I feel it; and yet it is a great pleasure to seize an impression and lock it up in words: you feel as if you… Continue reading Wallace Stevens
…I have a feeling of being at home when I am with Sien, a feeling that she gives me my own hearth, that our lives are interwoven. This is a heartfelt, deep feeling, serious, and not without a dark shadow of her gloomy past and mine, as if some evil threatened us, against which we… Continue reading Vincent van Gogh
I am not well; I could have built the Pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason. — Franz Kafka, Letters To Felice. ( Schocken; Pbk ed. edition December 6, 2016) Originally published 1967.