I’m bored to death. Perhaps I should pillage one of my neighbors for my own amusement. It seems to work for Drowden.
Kristin CashoreMots clés letters secret katsa po council raffin bann nander
She is probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as when it first commenced.
Jane AustenMots clés friendship letters satire jane-austen sincerity loyalty polite love-and-friendship pen-pals
King Drowden has given his men instructions to infiltrate the town, bribe townspeople for the secrets of their neighbors, steal the neighbors’ hidden treasures. Much more subtle than Drowden’s usual smash and burn technique. We do hope Drowden isn’t growing a brain.
Kristin CashoreMots clés letters secret katsa po council raffin bann nander
He had never imagined so clearly the consequences of mailing a letter—the impossibility of retrieving it from the iron mouth of the box; the inevitability if its steady progress through the postal system; the passing from bag to bag and postman to postman until a lone man in a van pulls up to the door and pushes a small pile through the letterbox. It seemed suddenly horrible that one's words could not be taken back, one's thoughts allowed none of the remediation of speaking face to face.
Helen SimonsonMots clés letters conversation
Let us consider letters - how they come at breakfast, and at night, with their yellow stamps and their green stamps, immortalized by the postmark - for to see one's own envelope on another's table is to realize how soon deeds sever and become alien. Then at last the power of the mind to quit the body is manifest, and perhaps we fear or hate or wish annihilated this phantom of ourselves, lying on the table. Still, there are letters that merely say how dinner's at seven; others ordering coal; making appointments. The hand in them is scarcely perceptible, let alone the voice or the scowl. Ah, but when the post knocks and the letter comes always the miracle seems repeated - speech attempted. Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.
Virginia WoolfMots clés letters correspondence
To my babies,
Merry Christmas. I'm sorry if these letters have caught you both by surprise. There is just so much more I have to say. I know you thought I was done giving advice, but I couldn't leave without reiterating a few things in writing. You may not relate to these things now, but someday you will. I wasn't able to be around forever, but I hope that my words can be.
-Don't stop making basagna. Basagna is good. Wait until a day when there is no bad news, and bake a damn basagna.
-Find a balance between head and heart. Hopefully you've found that Lake, and you can help Kel sort it out when he gets to that point.
-Push your boundaries, that's what they're there for.
-I'm stealing this snippet from your favorite band, Lake. "Always remember there is nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name."
-Don't take life too seriously. Punch it in the face when it needs a good hit. Laugh at it.
-And Laugh a lot. Never go a day without laughing at least once.
-Never judge others. You both know good and well how unexpected events can change who a person is. Always keep that in mind. You never know what someone else is experiencing within their own life.
-Question everything. Your love, your religion, your passions. If you don't have questions, you'll never find answers.
-Be accepting. Of everything. People's differences, their similarities, their choices, their personalities. Sometimes it takes a variety to make a good collection. The same goes for people.
-Choose your battles, but don't choose very many.
-Keep an open mind; it's the only way new things can get in.
-And last but not least, not the tiniest bit least. Never regret.
Thank you both for giving me the best years of my life.
Especially the last one.
Love,
Mom
Did you know I always thought you were braver than me? Did you ever guess that that was why I was so afraid? It wasn't that I only loved some of you. But I wondered if you could ever love more than some of me.
I knew I'd miss you. But the surprising thing is, you never leave me. I never forget a thing. Every kind of love, it seems, is the only one. It doesn't happen twice. And I never expected that you could have a broken heart and love with it too, so much that it doesn't seem broken at all. I know young people look at me and think my youth seems so far away, but it's all around me, and you're all around me. Tiger Lily, do you think magic exists if it can be explained? I can explain why I loved you, I can explain the theory of evolution that tells me why mermaids live in Neverland and nowhere else. But it still feels magic.
The lost boys all stood at our wedding. Does it seem odd to you that they could have stood at a wedding that wasn't yours and mine? It does to me. and I'm sorry for it, and for a lot, and I also wouldn't change it.
It is so quiet here. Even with all the trains and the streets and the people. It's nothing like the jungle. The boys have grown. Everything has grown. Do you think you will ever grow? I hope not. I like to think that even if I change and fade away, some other people won't.
I like to think that one day after I die, at least one small particle of me - of all the particles that will spread everywhere - will float all the way to Neverland, and be part of a flower or something like that, like that poet said, the one that your Tik Tok loved. I like to think that nothing's final, and that everyone gets to be together even when it looks like they don't, that it all works out even when all the evidence seems to say something else, that you and I are always young in the woods, and that I'll see you sometime again, even if it's not with any kind of eyes I know of or understand. I wouldn't be surprised if that is the way things go after all - that all things end happy. Even for you and Tik Tok. and for you and me.
Always,
Your Peter
P.S. Please give my love to Tink. She was always such a funny little bug.
Mots clés growing-up love letters peter-pan beautiful remembering tiger-lily
But you're sleep, and you're a few miles away, and I have no means to get to you right now, so I’m writing.
Darnell Lamont WalkerMots clés letters
This letter isn’t to mark any significant point in your life or mine. This letter is Just Because…Just Because.
Darnell Lamont WalkerMots clés letters
When I told the therapist that the “me” that I am now is the best me I can be, I was truthful. I’ve always given you my best, so when you say it's not enough, it chips away at the “best me.
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