Last night, two men tried to force my shutters. I recognized them: they are two of Rodin's Italian models. He told them to kill me. I am in his way; he wants to get rid of me.
From Camille Claudel
Sir Rodin convinced my parents to have me committed; they are all in Paris to arrange it.
I have been back in Paris for two weeks. Nothing new. Life is still bitter.
I don't want to say anything because I know I am unable to protect you from the harm that I see.
When you left on Saturday, I felt a horrible void, I saw you everywhere, on the beach, in your room, in the garden: impossible for me to get used to the idea that you had left.
If you are nice, and keep your promise, we will be in paradise.
I am scared; I don't know what is going to happen to me. What was the point of working so hard and of being talented, to be rewarded like this? Never a penny, tormented all my life. It is horrible; one cannot imagine it.
You promised to take care of me and not to turn your back on me. How is it possible that you never wrote to me even once and you never came back to see me? Do you think that it is fun for me to spend months, even years, without any news, without any hope!
Don't fear anything for your letters, they are burnt one by one and I hope you do the same with mine.
I have all sorts of problems and feel discouraged.
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1 perspectives