My Book is out and I hate it and so no doubt will you.

That is what the artist does: he sees, he is the witness, the one who remembers, and finally works out the pattern and the meaning for himself, and gives form to his memories.

and Santa Claus himself—sweet old Gentleman, was even gallanter than usual—Visitors from the Chimney were a new dismay, but all of them brought their Hands so full, and behaved so sweetly—only a Churl could have turned them away—

In the following letter, John Keats describes to his brothers, George and Tom, various Christmas gatherings, and his general displeasure with the company. He also describes his  notion of “negative capability,” an important concept for the Romantic Movement. Keats coined … Continued

And to-day is Christmas—it is at such periods that the vagabondage of my nature succumbs to a latent taste for domesticity. Away with the many corners of this round world! I am deaf to the call of the East and West, the North and South…

There is no telling what is to become of the work I have attempted with the Protestant ministers and scholars. Evidently someone has complained to Rome about my doing work that is “not fitting for a contemplative” and there have been notes of disapproval…

But I have no connection with the rest of people, I am only at war with them, at war with the whole body of mankind…

In the following letter Oscar Wilde addresses  Lord Alfred Douglas, his former lover. Later, Douglas’s father, the Marquess of Queensbury, would bring Wilde to court after finding out about the relationship. Charged with “gross indecency,” Wilde spent two years in prison, partially … Continued

We are as happy as two owls in a hole, two toads under a tree-stump,—or any other queer two poking creatures that are let live after the fashion of their black hearts—