"Do you know what has hung upon me so heavily of late? In what you said about [Rilke] I caught glimpses of limitations assigned to things (your ideas about solitude and creativity) apparent to me no less than to you; but—and this applies to everything that is fundamental—as I come to know him and grow closer to him, I take these things more casually, more cursorily, invariably in some one aspect, and this makes them less weighty and more vital than your rigid, irrefutable rejection of them does. You presented them almost as lies. I feared you did not love him enough."