“I write now because I need you in some way that I can’t explain…that, in truth, I do not know…in what way (I mean)…Only that I reach out to you. I do not know why or how, but I need your love, in the truth of it, the gentleness of it, the Godliness of it. Knowing you, at times better than myself, I ask for it without fear. Here I am with your truly fine letter and I ask for more. Does that seem strange? Not really “more”…for there isn’t any more after such sincerity and impact…but there is a now…I’m in trouble NOW. Write me anything…just words…I need a friend. You are that friend.”
— Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters














