Tuesday, November 17, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I was filled with such a dangerous delicious intoxication that I could have walked straight off the steps into the air, climbing on the strength of my own drunkenness into the stars. And the intoxication, as I knew even then, was the recklessness of infinite possibility.

All the best,

Doris Lessing

Wednesday, October 21, 2015


My dearest Vale,

When humor can be made to alternate with melancholy, one has a success, but when the same things are funny and melancholic at the same time, it's just wonderful.

All my love,

François Truffaut

Thursday, June 18, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I was doing well enough until you came along and kicked my stone over, and out I came, all moss and eyes.


Djuna Barnes

Sunday, June 7, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I will that as soone as I am trespassed out of this worlde that ye take my harte owte of my body, and embawme it, and take of my treasoure as ye shall thynke sufficient for that enterprise, both for your selfe and suche company as ye wyll take with you, and present my hart to the holy Sepulchre where as our Lorde laye, seyng my body can nat come there.

Lang may yer lung reek,

Robert the Bruce

Sunday, May 24, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The entire hotel, which called itself The Queen, had a forlorn, winter appearance, and few guests. Madame Ghoule, for it had been she who interviewed me, was a formidable barrel of a woman. The interview had consisted of her terse remarks on my proposed duties, and the evidence that I looked too skinny to be able to do any of it; was I therefore strong enough? I lied that I was, which she at once accepted.


Tanith Lee

Thursday, May 21, 2015


Diletta Valeria,

Man lives in a double world: according to the mind he is contained by no physical space and by no walls, but at the same time he is in heaven and on earth, in Italy, in France, in America, wherever the mind's thrust penetrates and extends by understanding, seeking, mastering. But indeed according to the body he exists not, except in only so much space as is least required, held fast in prison and in chains to the extent that he is not able to be in or to go to the place attained by his intellect and will, nor to occupy more space than defined by the shape of his body; while with the mind he occupies a thousand worlds.


Tommaso Campanella

Friday, May 15, 2015


Dear Valeria,

Well, I've always been interested in approaching a big city in a train, and I can't exactly describe the sensations, but they're entirely human and perhaps have nothing to do with aesthetics.

Kind Regards,

Edward Hopper

Tuesday, April 21, 2015


Cara Valeria,

To save the theatre, the theatre must be destroyed, the actors and actresses must all die of the plague. They poison the air, they make art impossible. It is not drama that they play, but pieces for the theatre. We should return to the Greek, play in the open air; the drama dies of stalls and boxes and evening dress, and people who come to digest dinner.

Ibsen is like this room where we are sitting, with all the tables and chairs. Do I care whether you have twenty or twenty-five links on your chain? Hedda Gabler, Nora and the rest: it is not that I want! I want Rome and the Coliseum, the Acropolis, Athens; I want beauty, and the flame of life.



Monday, April 20, 2015

Leon Battista

Dear Valeria,

Painting possesses a truly divine power in that not only does it make the absent present (as they say of friendship), but it also represents the dead to the livings many centuries later.


Leon Battista Alberti

Wednesday, April 15, 2015


Dear Valeria,

"Come what may," said I aloud, "I will see what lies beyond this door!"
And with this I opened it.” 

my best to you and your little friend from the Nile,

Amelia Edwards

Thursday, April 9, 2015


My dear Valeria,

There lived in the northern parts of England, a gentlewoman who undertook the education of young ladies; and this trust she endeavoured faithfully to discharge, by instructing those committed to her care in reading, writing, working, and in all proper forms of behaviour. And though her principal aim was to improve their minds in all useful knowledge; to render them obedient to their superiors, and gentle, kind, and affectionate to each other; yet did she not omit teaching them an exact neatness in their persons and dress, and a perfect gentility in their whole carriage.

With affection and regard, I remain,

Sarah Fielding

Thursday, March 26, 2015


Dear Valeria,

What I did not realise is that I was so naïve politically that I was not justified in committing myself to any political action of this kind. The atmosphere in Cambridge was so intense, the enthusiasm for any anti-fascist activity was so great, that I made the biggest mistake of my life.

All best,

Anthony Blunt

Sunday, March 15, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I always find myself wanting humanists to think about using the net for more than "let's just do what we've always done, only on line now" (the BMCR syndrome, if you will).


Allen Ross Scaife

Thursday, March 12, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I was daring enough to want absolute freedom, even if it was a mistake.


Věra Chytilová

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


Dear Valeria,

We saw the lightning and that was the guns; and then we heard the thunder and that was the big guns; and then we heard the rain falling and that was the drops of blood falling; and when we came to get in the crops, it was dead men that we reaped.

Very best regards,

Harriet Tubman

Monday, March 9, 2015


Dear Valeria,

Find what you love, and let it kill you.


Charles Bukowski

Tuesday, March 3, 2015


Dear Valeria,

What we need to question is bricks, concrete, glass, our table manners, our utensils, our tools, the way we spend our time, our rhythms. To question that which seems to have ceased forever to astonish us. We live, true, we breathe, true; we walk, we go downstairs, we sit at a table in order to eat, we lie down on a bed on order to sleep. How? Where? When? Why?

Describe your street. Describe another. Compare.

Your friend,

Georges Perec

Monday, March 2, 2015


Dear Valeria,

If Father’s kingdom is a cage, then my cage will be a kingdom. It is not I who am locked in, but you who are locked out.

Yours faithfully,

Marjorie de Bruce, Princess of Scotland

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Friday, February 27, 2015

Thursday, February 26, 2015


Dear Valeria,

Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration—that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.

Peace, out,

Bill Hicks

Wednesday, February 25, 2015


Dear Valeria,

And there is another feeling, one which he shares with most of humankind. He knows he’s screwed up his life, or something has twisted it. Every thinking man and woman knows this. Even the smug and dimwitted realize this unconsciously. But a baby, that beautiful being, that unsmirched blank tablet, unformed angel, represents a new hope. Perhaps it won’t screw up. Perhaps it’ll grow up to be a healthy confident reasonable good-humored unselfish loving man or woman. ‘It won't be like me or my next-door neighbor,’ the proud, but apprehensive, parent swears.

Best regards,

Philip José Farmer

Tuesday, February 24, 2015


Dear Valeria,

She screamed. Either she was terrified of my getting control of her or her pain overwhelmed her. I had not bitten her for nourishment or out of affection. I meant to destroy her throat, tear it to pieces. She let go of my shoulders to grab my head and push my face away, and in the instant of opportunity that gave me, I went for a better grip on her with my teeth. I bit through her larynx. She would do no more screaming for a while. And I broke her neck — or tried to. I wasn't sure whether I managed it or not because I lost consciousness before the worst of my own pain could catch up with me.

And then it was over.

All my love,

Octavia Butler

Monday, February 23, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The poetical mind has no self – it is every thing and nothing – It has no character – it enjoys light and shade. What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon Poet. It does no harm from its relish of the dark side of things any more than from its taste for the bright one; because they both end in speculation. A Poet is the most unpoetical of any thing in existence; because he has no Identity – he is continually in for – and filling some other Body – The Sun, the Moon, the Sea and Men and Women who are creatures of impulse are poetical and have about them an unchangeable attribute – the poet has none; no identity – he is certainly the most unpoetical of all God's Creatures.

Much love,

John Keats

Sunday, February 22, 2015


Dear Valeria,

At the times in my life when I was feeling the most gregarious and looking for bosom friendships, I couldn’t find any takers so that exactly when I was alone was when I felt the most like not being alone. The moment I decided I’d rather be alone and not have anyone telling me their problems, everybody I’d never even seen before in my life started running after me to tell me things I’d just decided I didn't think it was a good idea to hear about. As soon as I became a loner in my own mind, that’s when I got what you might call a “following.” As soon as you stop wanting something you get it. I’ve found that to be absolutely axiomatic.

All yours,

Andy Warhol

Saturday, February 21, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I don’t mean go out and get violent; but at the same time you should never be nonviolent unless you run into some nonviolence. I’m nonviolent with those who are nonviolent with me. But when you drop that violence on me, then you’ve made me go insane, and I’m not responsible for what I do. And that’s the way every Negro should get. Any time you know you’re within the law, within your legal rights, within your moral rights, in accord with justice, then die for what you believe in. But don’t die alone. Let your dying be reciprocal. This is what is meant by equality. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.


Malcolm X
El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz

Friday, February 20, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I have often been asked, how I felt when first I found myself on free soil. And my readers may share the same curiosity. There is scarcely anything in my experience about which I could not give a more satisfactory answer. A new world had opened upon me. If life is more than breath, and the ‘quick round of blood,’ I lived more in one day than in a year of my slave life. It was a time of joyous excitement which words can but tamely describe. In a letter written to a friend soon after reaching New York, I said: ‘I felt as one might feel upon escape from a den of hungry lions.’ Anguish and grief, like darkness and rain, may be depicted; but gladness and joy, like the rainbow, defy the skill of pen or pencil.

Best regards,

Frederick Douglass

Thursday, February 19, 2015


Dear Valeria,

But the wind does not stop for my thoughts. It whips across the flooded gravel pits drumming up waves on their waters that glint hard and metallic in the night, over the shingle, rustling the dead gorse and skeletal bugloss, running in rivulets through the parched grass — while I sit here in the dark holding a candle that throws my divided shadow across the room and gathers my thoughts to the flame like moths.

Best wishes,

Derek Jarman

Wednesday, February 18, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I ascended on Fragrant Hill in the friendly season of spring.
Not discouraged I climbed to the peak and met the Golden Face;
Flowers shone bright rays and auspicious colors gleamed like a rainbow,
Incense smoke wafted like mist and a blessed light emanated.

Raindrops were like bubbles on jade bamboos at the edge of the big rock;
The blowing wind played a song among the green pines at the mountain pass.
In front of the Buddha in the temple I conducted the incense ceremony,
And on the way back I rode a Blue Dragon in the royal carriage.


Qubilai, known as Kublai Khan, 5th Emperor of all the Mongols

Tuesday, February 17, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The universe is then one, infinite, immobile… It is not capable of comprehension and therefore is endless and limitless, and to that extent infinite and indeterminable, and consequently immobile.


Giordano Bruno

Monday, February 16, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I’m interested in the division that Judeo-Christianity has made between human nature and animal nature. None of the other great faiths in the world have got quite that division between us and them. None of the others has made this enormous division between birds and beasts who, as Darwin said, would have developed consciences if they’d had the chance, and us. I think it’s one of the scars in Western Europe. I think it’s one of the scars in our culture that we have too high an opinion of ourselves. We align ourselves with the angels instead of the higher primates.

Best regards,

Angela Carter

Sunday, February 15, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The prison of life and the bondage of grief are one and the same
Before the onset of death, how can man expect to be free of grief?


Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan

Saturday, February 14, 2015


Dear Valeria,

All presumptive evidence of felony should be admitted cautiously; for the law holds it better that ten guilty persons escape, than that one innocent party suffer.

Yrs sincerely,

William Blackstone, KC SL.

Friday, February 13, 2015


Liebe Valeria,

Beste Grüße,

Richard Wagner

Thursday, February 12, 2015


Dear Valeria,


Anna Anderson
aka Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia
née Franziska Schanzkowska

Wednesday, February 11, 2015


Dear Valeria,

And I admit it would be easier for me to concede matter and extension to the soul, than the capacity of moving a body and of being moved, to an immaterial being. For, if the first occurred through 'information; the spirits that perform the movement would have to be intelligent, which you accord to nothing corporeal. And although in your metaphysical meditations you show the possibility of the second, it is, however, very difficult to comprehend that a soul, as you have described it, after having had the faculty and habit of reasoning well, can lose all of it on account of some vapors, and that, although it can subsist without the body and has nothing in common with it, is yet so ruled by it.

Sincerely yours,

Elizabeth of the Palatinate, Princess of Bohemia

Tuesday, February 10, 2015


Dear Valeria,

In an honest service there is thin commons, low wages, and hard labour. In this, plenty and satiety, pleasure and ease, liberty and power; and who would not balance creditor on this side, when all the hazard that is run for it, at worst is only a sour look or two at choking? No, a merry life and a short one shall be my motto.

Aye aye,

Bartholomew “Black Bart” Roberts

Monday, February 9, 2015


Dear Valeria,

“You're a gentleman,” they used to say to him. “You shouldn't have gone murdering people with a hatchet; that's no occupation for a gentleman.”


Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky

Sunday, February 8, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The darkness and loneliness of our vast forests filled me with indescribable emotions, and above all other sounds, the music of the thousand Eolian harps sighing and wailing through a forest of pines, was most affecting to my youthful heart.

All my best,

Mary Shindler

Saturday, February 7, 2015


Dear Valeria,

Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardour of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet overpowering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips travelled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, “You are mine, you shall be mine, and you and I are one for ever”.


Sheridan Le Fanu


Cara Valeria,


Bartolommeo Bandinelli

Friday, February 6, 2015


Chère Valeria,

Je suis de race berbère et j’ignore à quel point vous nous sous-estimez, mais j’affirme cependant que les berbères sont des gens avancés, qui ont hérité de nombreuses civilisations. Vous ignorez par exemple qu’en tant que berbère, je suis d’origine juive. Mes ancêtres sont ensuite devenus chrétiens, puis musulmans. Maintenant, nous parlons l’arabe, langue du Coran, nous nous entendons en berbère, langue de nos aïeux, mais nous conversons aussi en français, langue de notre pays asservi.


Muhammad Ibn 'Abd el-Karim El-Khattabi (dit Abdelkrim)

Thursday, February 5, 2015


Dear Valeria,

The Beatles came backstage after one of my lectures, and they said to me: “Even from an early age we have been seeking a highly spiritual existence. We tried drugs and that didn't work.” They are such practical and intelligent young boys that it took them only two days to find that Transcendental Meditation is the answer.

Peace and love,

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

Wednesday, February 4, 2015


Dear Valeria,

This process of the good life is not, I am convinced, a life for the faint-hearted. It involves the stretching and growing of becoming more and more of one’s potentialities. It involves the courage to be. It means launching oneself fully into the stream of life.

Very best,

Carl Rogers

Tuesday, February 3, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I'm still struggling for the image of women in film and I'm still working, not as much as I would like to because for a woman in her late forties, it's hard to find work. Not only in France. I had a chat with Anjelica Huston last year. We spoke about the same problem, you know. I don't know where it comes from? The writers, the producers, or the directors. But I think it's a pity even for the public. We get a response to see a mature woman in film. We see many, many macho men in film. An actress like Meryl Streep doesn't work as much as Bob De Niro.


Maria Schneider

Monday, February 2, 2015


Dear Valeria,

One always hears of actors complaining of being typed - if he's young, he's typed as a juvenile; if he's handsome, he's typed as a leading man. I was lucky. Whereas bootmakers have to spend millions to establish a trademark, I was handed a trademark free of charge. When an actor gets in a position to select his own roles, he's in big trouble, for he never knows what he can do best. I'm sure I'd be damn good as little Lord Fauntleroy, but who would pay ten cents to see it?

Your most sincerely,

Boris Karloff

Sunday, February 1, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.

Take care,

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Saturday, January 31, 2015


Dear Valeria,

“If there’s a buzzing-noise, somebody’s making a buzzing-noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is because you’re a bee.”

Then he thought another long time, and said: “And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey.”

And then he got up, and said: “And the only reason for making honey is so I can eat it.” So he began to climb the tree.

Best wishes,

A.A. Milne

Friday, January 30, 2015


Yo! Valeria,

Black ghost, black ghost
Please stay away from my door
Black ghost, black ghost
Will you please stay away from my door
Yeah, you know you worry po' Lightnin' so now
I just can't sleep no more
Yeah, you know I go to dreaming first night
Black ghost is all po' Lightnin' can see
I go to dreaming first night,
Black ghost is all po' Lightnin' can see
You know that's why I begin to wonder
Why you keeps on worryin' me
Black ghost is a picture
And the black ghost is a shadow too
Whoa, black ghost is a picture
And the black ghost is a shadow too
You just can see him but you can't hear him talkin'
Ain't nothin' else that a black ghost can do…

Ever yours,

Sam John "Lightnin’" Hopkins

Thursday, January 29, 2015


Dear Valeria,

I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.


Robert Lee Frost

Wednesday, January 28, 2015


Chère Valeria,

Je jure devant Dieu de t'aimer comme un frère,
Dans la vie ou la mort, dans la paix ou la guerre,
Et de sauvegarder ton honneur de chrétien,
Fût-ce au prix de mon sang, ou fût-ce au prix du tien!


Augusta Holmès

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Monday, January 26, 2015


Ma chère Valeria,

Ses cheveux épais et longs, terminés en boucles, inondent en flottant ses divines épaules ; une couronne multiforme et multiflore pare sa tête, et la lune argentée brille sur son front ; des deux côtés se tordent des serpents parmi de blonds épis, et sa robe aux reflets indécis passe, selon le mouvement de ses plis, de la blancheur la plus pure au jaune de safran, ou semble emprunter sa rougeur à la flamme ; son manteau, d'un noir foncé, est semé d'étoiles et bordé d'une frange lumineuse ; sa main droite tient le sistre, qui rend un son clair, sa main gauche un vase d'or en forme de gondole.


Gérard de Nerval

Saturday, January 24, 2015


"I am Caligula, glutton of gluttons, man over woman, man of all women, the whore of all man."

Friday, January 23, 2015

Thursday, January 15, 2015


Dear Valeria,

Freedom only for the supporters of the government, only for the members of a party – however numerous they may be – is no freedom at all. Freedom is always the freedom of the dissenter. Not because of the fanaticism of "justice", but rather because all that is instructive, wholesome, and purifying in political freedom depends on this essential characteristic, and its effects cease to work when "freedom" becomes a privilege.


Rosa Luxemburg

Wednesday, January 14, 2015


Dear Valeria,

You must not fear, hold back, count or be a miser with your thoughts and feelings. It is also true that creation comes from an overflow, so you have to learn to intake, to imbibe, to nourish yourself and not be afraid of fullness.


Anaïs Nin

Tuesday, January 13, 2015


Cara Valeria,

Alfine mi riconquistavo, alfine accettavo nella mia anima il rude impegno di camminar sola, di lottare sola, di trarre alla luce tutto quanto in me giaceva di forte, d'incontaminato, di bello; alfine arrossivo dei miei inutili rimorsi, della mia lunga sofferenza sterile, dell'abbandono in cui avevo lasciata la mia anima, quasi odiandola. Alfine risentivo il sapore della vita, come a quindici anni.

Con affetto,

Sibilla Aleramo

Monday, January 12, 2015


Dear Valeria,

It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.


Agatha Christie

Wednesday, January 7, 2015


Dear Valeria,

For unless there be a cause, there exists no first, essential, or necessary cause. Unless final causes are physical efficients, they could not operate, unless upon every theory of the mind. The fact of single and double vision cannot be explained consistently with any theory, and as being deducible from the general laws of causation. Such a theory is null, for two reasons; therefore, I encourage myself to hope for the future success and prevalence of my own notions. Firstly, for truth's sake, which is the Word of God ; secondly, for God's sake, because Atheists, more than all others, are feeling after Him, but cannot find Him, as ever existing, though invisible. To do this must be an honourable calling, and one which may prove successful whether I know it or not.

Yours sincerely,

Lady Mary Shepherd

Monday, January 5, 2015


Valeria, mia cara

I cannot accept life as it is - it is too chaotic - too unconscious - therefore my resistance to it - my combat with it - I am forever struggling to mould life according to my temperament and needs - in other words, I put too much art in my life.


Tina Modotti