Showing posts with label 20th century. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 20th century. Show all posts

Sunday, June 16, 2024

Margaret

 Dear Valeria,


Peace!

The Right Honourable Margaret Bondfield (Justice of the Peace)

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Bessie

Dear Valeria,

Before the white man became universally disliked for his mental outlook it was there. (Maru 1971, p. 5.)

Love and peace,

Bessie Head

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Wilma

 Dear Valeria,

“Europeans brought with them the view that men were the absolute head of households, and women were to be submissive to them. It was then that the role of women in Cherokee society began to decline. One of the new values Europeans brought to the Cherokees was a lack of balance and harmony between men and women. It was what we today call sexism. This was not a Cherokee concept. Sexism was borrowed from Europeans.”

Regards,

Wilma Mankiller

Friday, March 1, 2024

Trevor

 Dear Valeria,

Peace sister,

Trevor Carter (co-founder of the Notting Hill Carnival)

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Marjory

 Dear Valeria,

By shedding tears of blood we praise King T'hamara,
Whose praises I, not ill-chosen, have told forth.
For ink I have used a lake of jet, and for pen a pliant crystal.
Whoever hears, a jagged spear will pierce his heart!

The Knight in the Panther’s Skin: Stanza 4
Translated by Marjory Scott Wardrop

Love,

Marjory Scott Wardrop


Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Bella

Dear Valeria,

I’ve been described as a tough and noisy woman, a prize fighter, a man-hater, you name it. They call me Battling Bella, Mother Courage, and a Jewish mother with more complaints than Portnoy. There are those who say I’m impatient, impetuous, uppity, rude, profane, brash, and overbearing. Whether I’m any of those things, or all of them, you can decide for yourself. But whatever I am—and this ought to be made very clear—I am a very serious woman.

Love,

 “Battling” Bella Savitzky Abzug

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Harry

Dear Valeria,

I’m perfect!




Sincerely Yours,

Harry “Little Tich” Relph

Friday, September 25, 2020

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Marija

Dear Valeria,


Remember to always punch nazis.

Yours in power,

Marija Bursać

Thursday, September 10, 2020

Friday, August 28, 2020

Chadwick

Dear Valeria,



“Now, more than ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another, as if we were one single tribe.”

Chadwick Boseman

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Fiammetta

Dear Valeria,

Never forget to look at the sky! 

Much love,

Fiammetta Wilson

Monday, June 29, 2020

Thursday, June 25, 2020

Michel

Chère Valeria,

La vieille puissance de la mort où se symbolisait le pouvoir souverain est maintenant recouverte soigneusement par l'administration des corps et la gestion calculatrice de la vie.

Votre ami,

Michel Foucault

Sunday, November 4, 2018

Wilfred

Dear friends,

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
      —Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
      Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
      Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
   Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
      The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
   Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
   And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Yours,

Wilfred Owen

Sunday, September 23, 2018

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

Monday, July 31, 2017

Jeanne

Dear Valeria,


I shall die very young...maybe seventy, maybe eighty, maybe ninety. But I shall be very young.

Many, many kisses

Jeanne Moreau