"Or don't you like to write letters. I do because it’s such a swell way to keep from working and yet feel you’ve done something." -- Ernest Hemingway to Scott Fitzgerald.
Little that Hemingway knew, Scott is good at writing one. This one small part of his letter to his wife Zelda Sayre, who's been hospitalized for her schizophrenia, will do the tell...
To Zelda:
You and I have been happy; we haven't been happy just once, we've been happy a thousand times. The chances that the spring, that's for everyone, like in the popular songs, may belong to us too -- the chances are pretty bright at this time because as usual, I can carry most of contemporary literary opinion, liquidated, in the hollow of my hand -- and when I do, I see the swan floating on it and -- I find it to be you and you only.
But swan, float lightly because you are a swan, because by the exquisite curve of your neck the gods gave you some special favor, and even though you fracture it running against some man-made bridge, it healed and you sailed onward.
Forget the past -- what you can of it, and turn about and swim back home to me, to your haven for ever and ever -- even though it may seem a dark cave at times and lit with torches of fury; it is the best refuge for you -- turn gently in the waters through which you move and sail back.
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My Note: I personally love those three paragraphs best. It's about getting the best from letting go of the past. It's about that question of "It’s easy to walk away, but what if you stay?"
What would you say...?
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