Jane Burr

Biographical details

Jane Burr,  Letters of a Dakota Divorcee

“ You are wiser than most of us fools who have choked our lives in the mud of New York. To men, dear, you are a cold Alp. Snow bound and near to heaven, impenetrable and frowning with flanks of granite, and yet beneficent. How do you accomplish it when your heart is wrung from year's end to year's end?
It must be Machiavellian foresight, precious—foresight that you alone, out of the whole set, possess. The world never forgives a failure and never forgives you for telling it the truth, and my standard is truth, as near as possible, and yours is sacrifice complete.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Jane Burr,  Letters of a Dakota Divorcee

“ I try never to think of an end to my happiness, but somehow the crushing thought [Pg 122] comes and stifles me into abject fear. Then my husband brings me my little child and the evil thoughts are kissed away.
Yesterday Carlton's eyes filled with tears of gratitude as I sat nursing our baby before the open grate and running my hand through his thick brown hair as he sat on the floor beside us. We remain long hours in silence watching the pictures in the blazing back logs, then suddenly we embrace to prove mutually that we still have each other.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Jane Burr,  Letters of a Dakota Divorcee

“ The Black Hills.
July 2.
One week has passed Dear, since you left us—a strange week of readjustment and thought. All of those precious months that you have given me are but another expression of your divine friendship. The poignant grief is gone with you and my gratitude to you can but be shown by the degree of bravery that I now manifest.
Every day this week, my son and I have sat in the sunshine near the two mounds, which my remaining bronze boy has decorated with crocuses from the neighboring ravine. He spends long hours after dark, gathering wild flowers in the moonlight.
”
Source: Gutenberg

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