Please join me in wishing the happiest of birthdays to the following letters, all written on the sixth day of a February gone by.
Beethoven always sounds to me like the upsettings of bags of nails, with here and there an also dropped hammer.
John Ruskin
Letter to John Brown
6th February 1881
(From An Encyclopedia of Quotations About Music)
I prefer to write to Virginia—not that I have anything to say except that I love her and wish she were not ill ... Do you know what I believe it was, apart from the 'flu? It was SUPPRESSED RANDINESS. So there.
Vita Sackville-West
Letter to Virginia Woolf
6th February 1929
(From Violet to Vita: The Letters of Violet Trefusis to Vita Sackville-West, 1910-21)
I wish to inform you that Saturday night between 9:25 and 9:36 I called three times asking to be connected with Mrs. Elizabeth Fincher who is my mother-in-law, who has been in your hospital intermittently since May of 1959, and who has been in it, in a private room, steadily since before Christmas. On each of my three telephone calls I was informed that no such person existed in your slaughter house, and was referred to your admission desk. I do not wish to be admitted to your hospital, and I would never again enter a dog into it. I have paid all bills regularly, and I insist that this woman be listed with your telephone operators, as at least a temporary resident of the death house which you operate so expensively. If I ever call again and am told that she is not there, I shall give you all the trouble that murderers deserve.
Mistakes are to be forgiven but stupidity is a crime.
Dalton Trumbo
Letter to Cedars of Lebanon Hospital
6th February 1960
(From Additional Dialogue: The Letters of Dalton Trumbo)
[Hours after the death of King George VI]
It is impossible for me to grasp what has happened, last night he was in wonderful form and looking so well, and this morning, only a few hours ago, I was sent a message that his servant couldn’t waken him.
I flew to his room, & thought that he was in a deep sleep, he looked so peaceful and then I realised what had happened.
It is hard to grasp, he was such an angel to the children & me, and I cannot bear to think of Lilibet, so young to bear such a burden.
I do feel for you so darling Mama—to lose two dear sons, and Bertie so young still, & so precious—It is almost more than one can bear.
Queen Elizabeth
Letter to Queen Mary
6th February 1952
(From Counting One's Blessings: The Collected Letters of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother)
Sir,
I have just written you a long letter.
On reading it over, I have thrown it into the waste paper basket.
Hoping this will meet with your approval,
I am
Sir
Your obedient Servant
Lieutenant Colonel Alfred D. Wintle
Letter to the editor of The Times
6th February
(From Letters of Note: Correspondence Deserving of a Wider Audience)
I am occasionally depressed now, or discouraged, especially when I wonder about the future, but instead of fearing these low spots as the beginning of a bottomless whirlpool, I know I have already faced The Worst (total negation of self) and that, having lived through that blackness, like Peer Gynt lived through his fight with the Boyg1, I can enjoy life simply for what it is: a continuous job, but most worth it. My existence now rests on solid ground; I may be depressed now and then, but never desperate. I know how to wait.
Sylvia Plath
Letter to her mother
6th February 1956
(From Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956)
Love the notice about Ranger. If only I could have that control over Tulip.
LC Wintle's letter is sheer perfection...