Viewing page 115 of 145

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

226
Monday, August 13, 1928

wonder to what that would lead.  He is so real as a person;  he has amazing good task, infallible;  a lucid, wide mind;  a delightful sense of humor:  a strange clumsy Tenderness that is very precious.  But what will happen?


227
[[strikethrough]] Tuesday, August 14, 1928 [[/strikethrough]]
May 28, 1934

How silly it all is!  Dear John, you are only five minutes away from here, where you sit now reading that foolish novel, and looking, no doubt, at the full, bright moon.  I can see it from here now, too, clearer and whiter than when we saw it rise this evening, rich and yellow above the mountains and the Hudson.  It was so lovely – the moon died then the hump of mountains with the slice of pink-blue sky and the water below – and we both knew it, but people like us don't admire Nature.  We don't dare, we're so damned self conscious.  But we knew it, John, we did know – we felt it.  That strange ominous drive along Storm King highway, so that I felt very afraid and remote, and curiously dependent on you.

Oh! how much I depend on you anyway.  Charles thinks you have given me direction and made me focus my attention.  That is true.  Miss Bridge was important in my decision, but you have helped develop my taste.  I thank you for that – and for more awareness and aliveness and common sense.  But most of all I thank you for just being you.  I depend on that in you – and I love you for your dearness.

I don't know what will happen in Mexico – if I will see much of you or not, or how you will act.  I don't know what will even come of this.