D O C U M E N T S 4 3 1 , 4 3 2 M A R C H 1 9 2 9 3 9 1 “Yes, you’d like to know that,”—you’ll think. “You’re not very finicky!” But that’s how the ordinary earthling is, when he has had the good luck to walk along- side such a great man. And naturally, he’d like to know still more, but contents him- self, in accordance with a law that even you have still not overturned, that a man cannot spread himself too thin, with the memory that you do not want to linger on such matters, of which infinitely many are certainly approaching you again right now, and with the wish that you might be allowed to continue to work for many years, in well-preserved vigor, on the earth-shaking ideas from which you have just given us, once again, such marvelous synopses of science. With best wishes, also to your revered spouse, in which my wife joins me, yours truly, Dr. Neustätter 431. To Grete Lebach Gatow, 13 March [1929][1] Tomorrow Elsa Margot Ilse and Rudi[2] are coming around to celebrate my birthday by solemnly eating huge amounts. They’re bringing forks, knives, plates, and a roast vulture with them. I’m feeling better, despite the fact that I worked like a madman, perhaps precisely because I had eaten a large number of stewed onions on the basis of a quack’s advice. Now I will be drowned in proofs of friendship of- fered by those around me, who at such times are not usually inclined to think that life is a battle 432. From Sigmund Freud Tegel, 13 March 1929 Dear Sir, A coincidence makes it possible for me to congratulate you on your fiftieth birthday from nearby.[1] It is so superfluous to wish you good luck. I shall rejoice, along with countless others, alas, that you have enjoyed so much luck and still enjoy it. Yours sincerely, Sigm. Freud (aet.[2] 73)