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Vienna XIX, Strassergasse 47
May 16, 1935
Dear Lou
If one lives long enough (say about seventy-nine years), one may live to get a letter and even a photo from you-whatever the latter may look like. I refrain from sending you one of myself. What an amount of good nature and humor it takes to endure the grue-some business of growing old! The garden outside and the flowers in the room are beautiful, but the spring is a Fopperei,* as we say in Vienna. I am learning at last what it is to be cold. My doctor has ordered me to drink sugar water for my subnormal temperatures which makes one feel miserable.
Don't expect to hear anything intelligent from me. I doubt that I can still produce anything-I don't think so-but in any case I haven't got the time, as I have to do so much for my health. This is apparently like the Sibylline books: the fewer there are left, the higher the value. I of course rely more and more on Anna's care, just as Mephistopheles once remarked:
In the end we dependOn the creatures we made.
In any case, it was very wise to have made her. I wish I could tell you in person how much I have your well-being at heart.
Your old
Freud