Meanwhile in my head, I'm undergoing open-heart surgery. - Anne Sexton
275"..the books we need are the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that make us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, or lost in a forest remote from all human habitation — a book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us." - Franz Kafka, from a letter to Oskar Pollak
2007"I felt that you were the one person I need not explain to." - Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters
1185"I’m so odd, and I’m so limited, and I’m so different from the ordinary human being—so you say. I have a strong suspicion that I’m the simplest of you all, and that its my extreme transparency that baffles you. I dont think I ever feel anything but the most ordinary emotions." - Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Ethel Smyth
829"It is incredible how essential to me you have become." - Vita Sackville-West, from a letter to Virginia Woolf
294"As an experience, madness is terrific I can assure you, and not to be sniffed at; and in its lava I still find most of the things I write about. It shoots out of one everything shaped, final, not in mere dribblets, as sanity does. And the six months…that I lay in bed taught me a good deal about what is called oneself." - Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Ethel Smyth
1707"You are still the only face I have in my mind’s eye." - Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West
574"How I adore you, and how little you do!" - Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Leonard Woolf
481"You really are all I’ve got, don’t forget us, I plead with my heart." - Amy Winehouse, from a letter to Blake-Fielder Civil
1322"I love you. They’re only three words, but they’re the three truest words I know. And I’ll be saying them to you forever." - Amy Winehouse, from a letter to Blake-Fielder Civil
443"Tenderness does not require passion to make it real. Not for me. Tenderness is even unique and maybe it is far more valuable than passion. I would, in all frankness, hold it so. I do not want to look for a mad passionate affair. Not because I’m frightened but because, please believe me, I do not want a lover. I want a friend. One can look and look and still there is no friend. I would like, as a child might say it, to be your friend. After all, you say to me that "I don’t know if this is what is going to happen" and I say to you, this is what I want to happen. Then, I add my miracle talk — if friends once, then why not forever. Why ask what will happen when we are the ones who can control what will happen?" - Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters
416"We were a nothingness shot with gleams of what might be." - Katherine Mansfield, from a letter to her husband, John Middleton Murry

I wrote this letter today […]

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5631"I belong to you and always have. Our day will come." - Amy Winehouse, from a letter to Blake Fielder-Civil

Dear Linda,

I am in the middle of a flight to St. Louis to give a reading. I was reading a New Yorker story that made me think of my mother and all alone in the seat I whispered to her “I know, Mother, I know.” (Found a pen!) And I thought of you — someday flying somewhere all alone and me dead perhaps and you wishing to speak to me.

And I want to speak back. (Linda, maybe it won’t be flying, maybe it will be at your own kitchen table drinking tea some afternoon when you are 40. Anytime.) — I want to say back.

1st, I love you.

2. You never let me down.

3. I know. I was there once. I too, was 40 and with a dead mother who I needed still.

This is my message to the 40-year-old Linda. No matter what happens you were always my bobolink, my special Linda Gray. Life is not easy. It is awfully lonely. I know that. Now you too know it — wherever you are, Linda, talking to me. But I’ve had a good life — I wrote unhappy — but I lived to the hilt. You too, Linda — Live to the HILT! To the top. I love you, 40-year old Linda, and I love what you do, what you find, what you are! — Be your own woman. Belong to those you love. Talk to my poems, and talk to your heart — I’m in both: if you need me. I lied, Linda. I did love my mother and she loved me. She never held me but I miss her, so that I have to deny I ever loved her — or she me! Silly Anne! So there!



" - Anne Sexton, from a letter to her daughter, Linda Gray Sexton
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