[...] My nerves and mind were so badly affected that I found myself (others, naturally, do not perceive it at all) in a very comfortless condition. [...] The chief thing is to keep an iron hand over myself, to force myself to break off work promptly and frequently, and to wean my nerves and brain from a suicidal tendency by vigorous walks. I had great hopes of a happy restoration to health by means of a fairly long journey, and the very thought of being able even to nibble at the frontiers of Italy had a wonderfully reviving effect on me to start with. But—this journey has completely opened my eyes about myself and its effect upon me has robbed me of my last illusions. True, I cannot deny that the entrance into Italy really enchanted me, but I can no longer conceal from myself the realisation that for me—there is no more joy in life. It was there that I found that I am no longer capable of light-hearted joy in living—my youth is gone. Yes, dear friend, till a certain event in my life, well known to you, I was still young—it was then that at a single stroke I became old, and I remain so. [...] I am an artist though, and so I will carry on my artistic life as long as may be. Naturally it is my art alone which still has power to support me and disguise from me the insipidity of my life. I must try as well as I can to ease the great strain of the effort this costs me. The most important factor in this is to spare myself the wretchedness of over-frequent contact with foolish people. I think now I have discovered the surest device for self-preservation, in a little house with a little garden, far off on the lake. It almost seems as if this last wish bearing on the conditions of my life, were to be fulfilled. The German theatres are gradually taking up my operas and the latest is that the King of Prussia himself wants Tannhäuser performed for his birthday. Very likely nothing will come of this, for I have taken the liberty of making very large demands on Berlin. Yet it looks now as if—while you remain faithful to me—I might still contemplate the fulfilment of this one darling wish of my life. Your daughter Julia has won my sincerest interest. She is full of understanding and sensibility and there is no doubt she only lacks the right husband to bring her beautiful disposition to the happiest perfection. I can only regard her connexion with [Otto] Kummer [...] as a great misfortune. The last news your daughter sent us about Otto's condition was not reassuring and my own hopes for his health are not great. It is very sad! [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 1, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 222