I’ve just been reading about the modernist writer, Katherine Mansfield that died from tuberculosis, in 1923, aged 34 in Fontainebleau, France.
Virginia Woolf wrote in her journal that "I was jealous of her writing - the only writing I have ever been jealous of.”
Katherine Mansfield wrote, “The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.”
How beautiful is that! In 1920, she wrote in her journal,
“Everything in life that we really accept undergoes a change. So suffering must become love. This is the mystery. This is what I must do.”
How true these words are! Love, Susie x