Letter 1085: I've been deeply impatient with your silence — the kind of complaint that comes naturally to those who care.
I've been deeply impatient with your silence — the kind of complaint that comes naturally to those who care. But I confess that your recent letter has satisfied my longing. So I'm grateful, and I earnestly ask you to keep writing often. This kind of attention never grows tiresome through repetition.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.
Related Letters
Forgetting does not happen outside the range of human experience — it falls upon us like other ailments.
, a newly-professed monk Concerning the need always to be sober You have grasped the ploughshare well and to the point.
Could this have been hoped or expected by us, that now by our brother Severus we should have to claim the answer which your love has not yet written to us, so long and so impatiently desiring your reply? Why have we been doomed through two summers (and these in the parched land of Africa) to bear this thirst? What more can I say?
To my Brother.
We cannot bear the stubbornness of our people, who have not paid their outstanding obligations from previous years.