[...] I remembered Liszt as well. I do not know a single characteristic of his which does not make him seem truly lovable to me. Such shadows as there are in his nature are not a matter of character but rather, occasionally, of intellect. On the latter side, he is easily influenced, and is led astray through weakness. I have not written to him for a long time; even my great grief at the loss of his son was conveyed to him only through others. I cannot write to a man I love so well except intimately—I have no business matters to discuss with him. But the certainty that our intimacies will always be exposed to the eyes of a second person is not to be borne. It at once leads to calculation and deceit. That is how things are, however. Liszt has become a man without secrets and it is not his inner self but his palpably abused weakness which has reduced him to this unlovely dependence. I have ultimately sadly told him—or rather, I am sorry to say, both of them!—that I can no longer write to him (or them!). [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 2, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 465