Pablo

Querida Valeria,

Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

Siempre,

Pablo Neruda

Anna

Cara Valeria,

I would always say to my make-up artists: 'don't cover my wrinkles, it took me a whole life to earn them'.

Ciao,

Anna Magnani

Sajjad

Dear Valeria,

But Sheila was feeling that tonight those ruins were not desolate, but peopled once again. She knew that this was a story which must come to an end. She understood that the real world was a different one. But at this moment it was Naim, this room, her present life, which seemed superficial and unreal. She was thinking that only that night was real.

Best Regards,

Sajjad Zaheer

John

Dear Valeria,

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.
               Done by! Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And meat was hard to come by.

Yours sincerely,

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

Asger

Dear Valeria, 

A creative train of thought is set off by: the unexpected, the unknown, the accidental, the disorderly, the absurd, the impossible.

Best wishes,

Asger Jorn