Sappho of My Life
When talking about women, you have to mention Sappho. I regard Sappho as a plumpy, lady-like matron, teaching her protegées what is suitable and what is not; and then, as a wistful lady, watching how the dancing girls trample down the grass surrounding the beloved altar. Girls, too precious to be forbidden to do it, girls, whose time has not come yet, girls hurrying.
Some other time, I do curse myself: I'm all wrong when it comes to Sappho! She is slim and delicate and her eyes are large and she makes you want to take her under your wings, till you see that her lips are tight though her voice sounds beautiful, and she might be dangerous in her anger. The judgements she passes are overwhelming: "Allow me to hoist my sails, I shall then sail the seven seas, loot the nine continents. You know that nothing appeases my hunger - not even the simple life, modest habits, rough bread, little water, humble husband, children poor in talent (let me choose my children myself, please!) - obscurity or insignificancy in the eyes of posterity, the brighter the martyr's crown, his !"