Tag Archives: sorrow

“All my spare time, is spent in trying to set words to music”

Posted on August 5, 2018 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Balfour. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 6, 1971.] To Ida and Una Taylor [Balfour, The Life of RLS, 2, 1901, pp. 42-43, 211] [Saranac … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Beethoven, Christendom, church, consolation, Federations, illusions, Jacobins, music, Origines de la France Contemporaine, politics, preaching, religion, Robert Louis Stevenson, Saranac Lake, sorrow, Taine, Taylor, Tempest tossed, tragedy, variations faciles, words | 1 Comment

To me, the medicine bottles on my chimney and the blood on my handkerchief are accidents; they do not colour my view of life… they do not exist in my prospect

Posted on December 3, 2016 by mafalda

[For correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1484.] To William Archer [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 299-302] Skerryvore, Bournemouth [30 October 1885] Dear Mr. Archer, You will see that I had already had a sight of your … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged accidents, affections, Archer, art, article, As You Like It, believe, beneficient, blood, Burns, cancer, chimney, complain, conscience, consolation, Darwin, death, disgrace, division, emphasis, employment, evil, fault, fireside, flattering, fox-hunting, friends, Gargantua, handkerchief, happy, Heine, honesty, invalid, joy, Kant, Latin, life, literature, medicine, morals, pain, passions, philosophy, pimple, posteriors, poverty, privacies, Prometheus, prospect, readers, rich, Robert Louis Stevenson, Shakespeare, sickness, Skerryvore, sorrow, soul, Squire, substance, t criticise, Timon, trials, trouble. existence, universe, weep, witness-box, words, works | Leave a comment

Our little lives are moments in the wake of the eternal silence: but how crowded while they last

Posted on December 5, 2015 by mafalda

In memory of one of the oldest and most intimate of his friends of Edinburgh days, James Walter Ferrier, who died of alcoholism three weeks before, at the same age as RLS, 33. The reference to a Mrs. Leslie is … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged affection, angel, blind, companion, crowd, death, Ferrier, friends, Gladstone Terrace, Grant, Henley, Hyères, life, loss, love, mourn, Mrs Leslie, peace, portrait, regret, religion, Robert Louis Stevenson, sharpness, silence, sorrow, suffer, wake, wife, wild, wisdom, work | Leave a comment

The rain rains and the winds do beat upon the cottage of the late Miss McGregor

Posted on April 23, 2015 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 3, 836.] To Edmund Gosse [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 57-58] The Cottage (late the late Miss McGregor’s), … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged address, behave, Braemar, carriage, Castleton of Braemar, clauses, collapse, commit, cottage, country, dear, deceased, decently, family worship, fellow, fine, gilt nib, glad, glibness, Gosse, hacks, halls, highland, home, house, humble, important, improve, intellectual, lady, lamentable, make, maps, M‘Gregor Miss, obedient, omitted, rain, read, reference, Robert Louis Stevenson, sell, servant, sign, sorrow, spanking, stay, stylistic inspiration, supply, weather, welcome, whack, winds, worm, Yours etc. | Leave a comment

Pitting my own humour to this old verse … we’ll walk the woods no more

Posted on August 7, 2014 by mafalda

At this time Stevenson was much occupied, as were several young writers his contemporaries, with imitating the artificial forms of early French verse. Some of his attempts have been preserved, like the two contained in this letter. The second is … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Banville, bath, body, bright, brown, canal, Château Renard, death, desire, dire, door, ease, eyes, face, Fanny Sitwell, fire, French, glaring, grass, horrid, hot, intricate, knees, laughter, lead, Loiret, love, lyre, meadows, measure, mire, nose, old, pale, patches, please, poems, poplar, red, renown, Roads, Robert Louis Stevenson, rondeaux, sack, sad, sea, sea-winds, seaboard, Simpson, sorrow, soul, sunset, town, verse, walking, weather, weep, woods, yore | 1 Comment

Beggars must not be choosers

Posted on April 6, 2014 by mafalda

After spending a few days in one of the more retired hotels of Monte Carlo, RLS and Sidney Colvin go on to Mentone and settle at the Hotel Mirabeau, (no more existing) near the eastern extremity of the town. P.R. … Continue reading →

Rate this:

Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged abduction, address, adversity, Americans, battledoor and shuttlecock, bay, bed, beggars, blessings, choosers, clothing, cold, comfits, daughter, epistle, expense, first floor, francs, French, fruit, Hôtel Mirabeau, Hôtel Pavillon, Hobson’s choice, hotel, houseless, idiot, Kings’ Palaces, Latin, little girls, luxury, Menton, mildness, mother, offensive, Old Smoko, polite, Poste Restante, pudding, Robert Louis Stevenson, room, Sidney Colvin, sorrow, sun, table d’hôte, temper, third floor, vanity, waiters, wind, winter | Leave a comment

	rdury on Does it not seem as if things…
	mafalda on “It is to be your editio…
	Seb Laurier on “It is to be your editio…
	mafalda on “I started in the dark o…
	Elizabeth Waterston on “I started in the dark o…

Tag Archives: sorrow

“All my spare time, is spent in trying to set words to music”

Rate this:

To me, the medicine bottles on my chimney and the blood on my handkerchief are accidents; they do not colour my view of life… they do not exist in my prospect

Rate this:

Our little lives are moments in the wake of the eternal silence: but how crowded while they last

Rate this:

The rain rains and the winds do beat upon the cottage of the late Miss McGregor

Rate this:

Pitting my own humour to this old verse … we’ll walk the woods no more

Rate this:

Beggars must not be choosers

Rate this:

Archives

Follow Blog via Email

Blog Stats

Recent Comments

Blogs I Follow

Tags

Meta