Quotes from my Blog. Letters. Tatyana Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ about how it came about that I love you so passionately and have such a burning desire to give so much love. In my whole life I was rarely asked whether I wanted to give as much as to receive. It is quite different with you. You are an absolute master, you know how to reach my weakest points and that is why you will get further. I feel as if there was some unopened reservoir there which you discovered and which belongs only to you. You have enticed another secret out of me, you bad one, but enough for now! I kiss your beloved eyes, your cheeks, your forehead and then five times your mouth, hug you warmly and lovingly…”

      – Marie Bader (1886—1942), from a letter to Ernst Löwy (1880—1943), Karlín, September 13, 1941, in: “Life and Love in Nazi Prague. Letters from an Occupied City. Marie Bader”, translated by Kate Ottevange

      “I wanted to set out everything that’s been happening to me in a detailed letter, but my exhaustion and sense of hopelessness are too great. I can’t write anything.”

      – Mikhail Bulgakov (1891—1940), from a letter to Aleksey Gorky, Moscow, dated September 3, 1929, in: “Manuscripts don’t burn: Mikhail Bulgakov, a life in letters and diaries”, edited by J.A.R.Curtis

      “Ah! Come, come, and you will be received with all the affection which infatuation and esteem

      can combine.”

      – Germaine de Staël (1766 -1817), from a letter to Don Pedro de Souza, Florence, dated May 14, 1805, in: “Madame de Staël. Selected correspondence”, translated from the French by Kathleen Jameson-Cemper

      “I work with absolute lack of focus. But that, apparently, is the reason for my success. I think about the most distant things while my hands and something – who knows what – merges with the task before me. I’m far away, and nevertheless the work gets done.”

      – Alejandra Pizarnik (1936—1972), from a letter to her psychoanalyst, León Ostrov, dated December 27, 1960, in: “Three letters from Alejandra Pizarnik to León Ostrov” by Emily Cooke (https://www.musicandliterature.org/)

      “My heart will leap up every time I receive a letter from you, but the expectation and the knowledge that you have written in your own good time will increase my pleasure.”

      – Giacomo Leopardi (1798—1837), from a letter to Pietro Giordani (1774—1848), Recanati, dated March 21, 1817, in: “The Letters of Giacomo Leopardi 1817—1837″. Selected and translatedfrom the Italian by Prue Shaw

      “… Dearest, dearest – my own sweetheart! What can I do for you, here, from the distance? Believe me, it is torture to be separated from you, and a poisonous feeling all the time…”

      – Bronislaw Malinowski (1884—1942), from a letter to Elsie Rosaline Masson (1890—1935), dated January 16, 1929, in: “The Story of a Marriage. The Letters of Bronislaw Malinowski and Elsie Masson”

      “I am sorry about what appears to you in effect as my bitch-like behaviour. I don’t know what to say. You know I am deeply attached to you, and that attachment has survived shocks, misadventures and time. I think it is pretty strong and solid, and its continuance means a lot to me.”

      – Iris Murdoch (1919—1999), from a letter to Brigid Brophy (1929—1995), dated March 18, 1960, in: “Living on Paper: Letters of Iris Murdoch, 1934—1995”

      “Why can’t we live together, why is life always so badly arranged?”

      – Gustave Flaubert (1821—1880), from a letter to George Sand (1804—1876), dated April 23, 1873, in: “The George Sand-Gustave Flaubert Letters”, translated from the French by A.L. McKenzie

      “And now, good night, my sweet boy. I am falling asleep beside you. 1000 loving kisses…”

      – Marie Bader (1886—1942), from a letter to Ernst Löwy (1880—1943), Karlín, dated September 19, 1941, in: “Life and Love in Nazi Prague. Letters from an Occupied City. Marie Bader”, translated by Kate Ottevange

      “Listen, my happiness – you won’t say again that I’m torturing you?”

      – Vladimir Nabokov (1899—1977), from a letter to Vera Nabokov (1902—1991), Prague, dated November 8, 1923, in: “Letters to Vera”, edited and translated from the Russian by Olga Voronina and Brian Boyd

      “ – I have written you at least forty letters during the last two weeks – all forty going into the fire. They seemed like so much nothing…”

      – Alfred Stieglitz (1864—1946), from a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe (1887—1986), Lake George, New York, dated July 1, 1929, in: “My Faraway One. Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz. Volume 1, 1915—1933″

      “We used to walk together, people envied us – and yet you only talked about your family happiness – and I about my unhappiness.”

      – Leos Janacek (1854—1928), from a letter to Kamila Stosslova (1891—1935), dated July 24, 1917, in: “Intimate Letters: Leoš Janáček to Kamila Janáček”, translated by John Tyrrell

      “It is late again. I am going to go to sleep and dream most beautifully of you. I kiss you lovingly, good night, be healthy and happy.”

      – Marie Bader (1886—1942), from a letter to Ernst Löwy (1880—1943), Karlín, dated September 13, 1941, in: “Life and Love in Nazi Prague. Letters from an Occupied City. Marie Bader”, translated by Kate Ottevange

      “Between me and life there is a mist of words always.”

      – Oscar Wilde (1854—1900), from a letter to Arthur Conan Doyle (1859—1930), dated? April 1891, in: “Oscar Wilde: A Life In Letters” by Merlin Holland

      “My day is gone into twilight, and I don’t think it worth the expense of candles.”

      – Charles Lamb (1775—1834), from a letter to Bernard Barton (1784—1849), dated January 9, 1824, in: “The Works Of Charles Lamb: The letters If Charles Lamb, With A Sketch Of His Life. The Poetical Works”

      “You make me soft (humanize, feminize, animalize) like fur.”

      – Marina Tsvetaeva (1892—1941), from a letter to Abram Vishnyak (1895—1943), in: “Nine Letters with a Tenth Kept Back and an Eleventh Received”, quoted in: “Readings: The Poetics of Blanchot, Joyce, Kafka, Kleist, Lispector, and Tsvetayeva” by H. Cixous

      “The one thought that pains me is that it seems we shall never in our lives have the opportunity to see each other again. My fate has been tangled and fearsome. Now it is leading me towards silence, and for a writer that is tantamount to death.”

      – Mikhail Bulgakov (1891—1940), from a letter to his brother, Nikolay Bulgakov (1989—1966), Moscow, dated February 21, 1930, in: “Manuscripts don’t burn: Mikhail Bulgakov, a life in letters and diaries”, edited by J.A.R.Curtis

      “Darling I do so love being near СКАЧАТЬ