Author of quotes: Henry James

It is not so easy to comprehend. It can visibly imagine, more clearly than anyone else, but sooner or later you begin to understand that this does not mean to know it.

Your every word is like a gentle touch of your hand, and brings as much pleasure as if my hand touched your.

Dear, dear boy, I embrace you with tenderness and can not Express! How must hurt you were in my awful, heartless silence in response to your beautiful, noble, refined letter! But, my dear boy, I was a dull way sick and only a couple of days as again - though not until the end - found the gift of words. Don't pity me, because it's over, I recover, the danger has passed. I got - surprisingly quickly - from the deep black hole. And when I was there, in the blackness, I thought about you, dear boy, I thought, passionately and hopelessly, on your last letter and how to embrace you in my heart... Now I am exhausted and burned out. And only for five minutes, before you sleep, let you in my heart. And I better, better, better, my dear boy, and don't think about my illness. Just think about my love and that I am forever and ever yours, Henry James.

The idea that I can't help you, I can't see you, talk to you, to touch you, to hold you tight and not let go - so that you can rest on my chest and feel my deep involvement... This thought torments me, dearest boy, makes me yearn for thee and for himself, to gnash their teeth and moan from the awareness of bitterness, which is full life... But there is another thought that brings me relief, and I want you to think about it as something possible. I'll be in town for a few weeks but will return home by the first of April. If you came, and I could take care of you, to embrace you as a brother, as a lover, to comfort or at least for a while to relieve the excruciating pain... These paintings I'm trying to imagine how likely achievable, not impossible. Let me, my dear boy, my love to comfort you...

And, after all, think of me with the same impatience and tenderness, with what I think of you.

... every time I fondly recall our walk, as we in the twilight was rolling on bikes, and can't help but feel all the wrongness that such minutes as quickly come to an end. Nothing - we will have many, many such moments!

I miss you absolutely not proportional to those three tiny days that we spent together (it now seems amazing that there were only three).

My town is not picturesque and not cause of inspiration, but if you look at what is good for the common man, is that good for the artist. And we'll all go together, and the Studio will go for both of us.

God knows, as we all cherish today short of how highly valued compactness. But it's not short, and weight. The significance, importance in our time. Trying to squeeze it into pre-counted a meager number of words - it zryashnoe, a waste of time.

We can't change his nature, but our goals, ideals, ways of achieving them change throughout life.

When one is happy about any lost time cannot be considered.

... Jealousy is a Vice more sordid than a love of alcohol.

It is easier to read between the lines than line by line.

The first thing to learn in relationships with other people, is that they can't stop being happy the way they want to.