Made wholesome

 

“Wherever I am, wherever I go, I always have such need to merely talk to you. Even when I have nothing to talk about – with you I just seem to go right ahead and sort of invent it. I invent it for you. Because I never seem to run out of tenderness for you and because I need to feel you near. Excuse the bad writing and excuse the emotional overflow. What I mean to say, perhaps, is that, in a way, I am never empty of you; not for a moment, an instant, a single second.”

Virginia Woolf, a letter to Vita Sackville-West 

PS: I couldn't trace the letter in any edition of the Letters, perhaps someone tracked it down?