Letters to a Friend

My dearest friend! These words may seem strange to thee, yet I write them from a heart that knows no guile. In this world, where all things change faster than the eye can follow, friendship alone remains unshaken. Thou hast stood by me in days of joy and in days of sorrow, and I find no words to speak my gratitude. Dost thou remember our talks beneath the stars? Then we thought the whole world lay at our feet. Now I know: the world lies at no man's feet. But our friendship is that which I shall carry with me, wherever fate may cast me. Come. Let us speak of trifles and of eternal things, as in the old days. Thine forever, W. S.

Dear friend! I write to you from a city where words flow like a river, and where every street remembers a thousand stories. I think of you often — more than I speak. In this city it is easy to lose oneself, but hard to forget those who were with you at the beginning. Do you remember our first conversation? It lasted all night, and we spoke of things that have no names. Now I understand: that was the real thing. All the rest is but shadows on the walls. Come. I will show you places you will not find on any map. We shall drink wine and speak of what cannot be put into words. Yours, J.