Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister.
Katherine MansfieldRead
I want so to live that I work with my hands and my feeling and my brain. I want a garden, a small house, grass, animals, books, pictures, music. And out of this, the expression of this, I want to be writing (Though I may write about cabmen. That’s no matter.) But warm, eager, living life — to be rooted in life — to learn, to desire, to feel, to think, to act. This is what I want. And nothing less. That is what I must try for.
Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister.
What can you do if you are thirty and, turning the corner of your own street, you are overcome, suddenly, by a feeling of bliss - absolute bliss - as though you'd suddenly swallowed a bright piece of that late afternoon sun and it burned in your bosom, sending out a little shower of sparks into every particle into every finger and toe?
What do you want most to do? That's what I have to keep asking myself, in the face of difficulties.
Could we change our attitude, we should not only see life differently, but life itself would come to be different.
I want, by understanding myself, to understand others. I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.
This is not a letter but my arms around you for a brief moment.
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