19 October

19 October 1920

Villa Isola Bella Menton, France

I believe the greatest failing of all is to be frightened. Perfect Love casteth out Fear. When I look back on my life all my mistakes have been because I was afraid . . . Was that why I had to look on death. Would nothing less cure me? You know, one can't help wondering, sometimes . . . No, not a personal God or any such nonsense. Much more likely - the soul's desperate choice. . . Am I right in thinking that you too have been ridden by Fear (of quite a different kind). And now its gone from you - and you are whole. I feel that only now you have all your strength - a kind of release. We are as different as can be but I do believe we have the same devils as well as the same gods.
Here are your letters back again, love. They interested me deeply. Your Stendhal article . . . seemed to fetch the french ducks off the water . . . didn't it? Im sorry about Knopf and the Yazpegs - but cant be helped.
Take care of yourself - my beloved child with all these wild men about throwing stones and striking. Make yourself small - fold yourself up. Im (privately - it doesn't do to tell you these things) terrified that in your lunch hour you'll take your bisticks into the street & get caught in a crowd & march away. Eat, don't catch cold whatever you do. I want to put my hands on you - to touch you - anxiously & lovingly. I miss you. Do you miss me? I miss your voice and your presence and all your darling ways.
Your Wig.
Could you bring Ribni at Xmas? There is a shop in Nice which cures poupées cassees. When I read of it I almost telegraphed for Ribni. I want him to be made good as new again. He haunts me. Ah, I can see a story in this idea[Letter to J. M. Murry in Collected Letters 18 October 1920]