As for me, I really live only when I am with you, and when I feel the
splendour of the surroundings.

Even in the middle of conversations, I am able to preserve the
sensation of solitude of thought which is necessary to me.


_November 18._

This morning, daylight showed us a country covered with hoar-frost, a
universal whiteness over hills and forest. My little village looks
thoroughly chilled.

I had spent the greater part of the night in a warm shelter, and I could
have stayed there, thanks to the kindness of my superiors, but I am
foolish and timid, and I rejoined my comrades from 1 o'clock till
half-past 4.

Curiously enough, we can easily bear the cold: an admirable article of
clothing, which nearly all of us possess, is a flour-sack which can be
worn, according to the occasion, as a little shoulder-cape, or as a bag
for the feet. In either case it is an excellent preserver of heat.


_11 o'clock._

For the moment there runs in my mind a pretty and touching air by
Handel. Also, an allegro from our organ duets: joyful and brilliant
music, overflowing with life. Dear Handel! Often he consoles me.