10/10/09

You ask me...


You ask me, my dear child, whether I am still fond of life? I admit that I think it has some acute sorrows. But I am even more repelled by death and I feel that I am so unfortunate to have to finish all this by death, and that if I could go backwards I would ask for nothing better. I find I am in the midst of an undertaking that embarresses me; I was launched upon life without my consent. I have got to leave it and that overwhelms me. And how shall I leave it? Which way? Through which door? When will it be? In what frame of mind? Shall I suffer thousands and thousands of pains and die in desperation? Shall I have a stroke? Shall I die in an accident? How shall I stad with God? What shall I have to present to Him? Will fear or nesessity bring me back to Him? Shall I have no other emotion than that of fear? What can I hope for? Am I worhty of paradise? Am I only fit for hell? What an alternative! What a puzzle! Nothing is so silly as to pin one's salvation to uncertainty, but nothing is more natural, and the stupid life I lead is the easiest thing in the world to understand. I am lost in these thoughts, and I find death so terrible that I hate life more because it leads me there than because of the thorns to be met with on the way. You will say I want to live for ever. Not at all, but if my opinion had been consulted I would have liked to die in my nurse's arms; it would have spared me many troubles and brought me to heaven quite safely and easily. But let us change the subject...

Madame de Sevigne
a letter to her daughter
on the 16th of March, 1672

2 comments:

Lisa Cecilia said...

Utrolig nydelig! Jeg må virkelig si at det er sjeldent jeg møter folk med god smak innenfor litteratur (jeg leste gjennom lista di også :)) Kan jeg linke til bloggen din på min egen? :)

Pandora said...

Aw, det er hyggelig å høre :) og ja, det er det bare til å gjøre. Det gjør meg bare glad : )

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