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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume II

— May 1921

To J. M. Murry


You ask me how I am… I am much the same. This chill has been the worst I have ever had since I was ill, and so I feel weak and rather shadowy—physically. My heart is the trouble. But otherwise I feel… well … it's difficult to say. No, one can't believe in God. But I must believe in something more nearly than I do. As I was lying here to-day I suddenly remembered that: “Oye of little faith!” Not faith in a God. No, that's impossible. But do I live as though I believe in anything? Don't I live in glimpses only? There is something wrong, there is something small in such a life. One must live more fully and one must have more power of loving and feeling. One must be true to one's vision of life—in every single particular—and I am not. The only thing to do is to try again from to-night to be stronger and better—to be whole.

That's how I am… Good-night.