Doris

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

Jean

Dear Valeria,

The historical record also reveals that the only periods during which the concentration of wealth has been halted or reversed are years following sustained political contestation — i.e. mass social movements.

Best regards,

Jean Anyon

Iain

Dear Valeria,

It was like living half your life in a tiny, stuffy, warm gray box, and being moderately happy in there because you knew no better... and then discovering a little hole in one corner of the box, a tiny opening which you could get a finger into, and tease and pull at, so that eventually you created a tear, which led to a greater tear, which led to the box falling apart around you... so that you stepped out of the tiny box’s confines into startlingly cool, clear fresh air and found yourself on top of a mountain, surrounded by deep valleys, sighing forests, soaring peaks, glittering lakes, sparkling snowfields and a stunning, breathtakingly blue sky. And that, of course, wasn’t even the start of the real story, that was more like the breath that is drawn in before the first syllable of the first word of the first paragraph of the first chapter of the first book of the first volume of the story.

Best regards,

Iain [M.] Banks

Jack

Dear Valeria,

“We are supposed to set you a good example,” said Devonet. “As a start, I will point out that a lady of refinement would not wish to be found so high in a tree.”
“Then I am a lady of refinement well and truly,” said Madouc, “since I did not wish to be found.”

Best luck,

Jack Vance