Auguste RODIN (1840-1917). L.A.S., [1913], to Robert de Montesquiou; 3pages in-8, small red Montesquiou stamp (small split at center fold).
He thanks him for his letter "honoring me with the dedication you make to your book on the engraver Bresdin, this curious figure of a man" [Montesquiou's book on Rodolphe Bresdin, L'inextricable graveur, Rodolphe Bresdin (Floury, 1913), is in fact dedicated to Rodin]. He is thinking of building a colonnade "to house the bust of Madame de Choiseul. I've just seen her, very ill, and weighing only fifty pounds. She has all her wit, the best. She speaks as others write. Her expressive eyes are those of Voltaire. Alas, she no longer rises, and this perfection of spirit is shattered. What a drama played out every day, killing each other. The persistent hope of yesteryear is gone. And this ending makes me understand destiny, our poor destiny, adorned to the last minute with hope and suddenly betrayed"...
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