The letters differ greatly in importance, in length, and in interest. Some are mere greetings or brief introductions, while others are carefully composed treatises; some are expressions of Cicero’s inmost feelings to his intimate friends, while others are business notes or occasional letters to men with whom he was on a less familiar footing; some are addressed to the great leaders of the political parties, others to comparatively obscure persons; some are on literary subjects, others on private business, and still others on matters that pertain to the history of the world. [Sidenote: Variety of contents.] The style and language vary with the contents of the letters, but are in general less careful than in any of Cicero’s other writings. The language is evidently that of common speech rather than of literary composition. In the letters written during his exile Cicero betrays unmanly discouragement, and breaks out into pitiful lamentation, just as in many of his orations he betrays great vanity, and extols overmuch his own courage and patriotism in the matter of the Catilinarian conspiracy; but these letters are the confidential utterances of momentary feelings, not the deliberate expressions of the man’s character, and we must not forget that Cicero was an Italian, a man of easily aroused emotions, whose vanity might overflow or whose grief might break forth without affecting his real earnestness or steadfastness. One of the briefer letters to Atticus is the following, written from Thurium, in April, 58 B. C., soon after Cicero’s banishment began: Terentia thanks you frequently and very warmly. That is a great comfort to me. I am the most miserable man alive, and am being worn out with the most poignant sorrow. I don’t know what to write to you. For if you are at Rome, it is now too late for me to reach you; but if you are on the road, we shall discuss together all that needs to be discussed when you have overtaken me. All I ask you is to retain the same affection for me, since it was always myself you loved. For I am still the same man; my enemies have taken what was mine, they have not taken myself. Take care of your health.[46] A letter to Marcus Terentius Varro, written in 46 B. C., among the troubles of the civil war, shows Cicero consoling himself with literature: