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voyages-extraordinaires · 6 years

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C:R ~VE~ Chapter 34

The sun has just started to make its debut when we hit land. Barbicane quickly ties our little boat to one of the piers before hopping onto the dock and dramatically offering Cardia a hand.

“Didn’t I tell you this baby would get us here? Honestly, you ladies worry too much!”

Cardia and I exchange glances before looking over at Nemo.

Nemo is still dripping miserably. He took a nasty stumble into the sea while trying to get the stalled motor of Impey’s “baby” running again...

It makes him look super-pathetic when he offers Barbicane a confident grin and a thumbs up.

These boys, I swear...

“Come on,” I say as I use Barbicane to hoist myself out of the boat before helping Cardia up myself. “Nemo, you too.”

Nemo’s boots squish as he climbs out of the boat. With a dramatic sigh he flops down and pulls one off, emptying a steady stream of water back into the sea.

“It looks like we landed in a fishing village,” says Cardia. I follow her gaze to see men preparing their boats for the day.

“Hey, maybe I can talk to some of them to get some lodgings around here,” says Barbicane. “I’ll be back!”

“Um, Barbicane...” I watch his retreating back as he bounds off. With a sigh I look over at Cardia. “How much Spanish does he know?”

“I don’t think he knows any...” says Cardia.

“My Spanish is rudimentary, at best,” I say. “We might have a problem.”

“I’d be surprised if they spoke Spanish,” says Nemo. He swings his boots over his shoulder. “... It will take a generation or two for the colonizer’s language to seep in.”

“Nemo...”

My expeditions have taken me many places, but... most of them were colonies of one power or another.

I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t given it much thought until I met him. How many people have lost their identities in the name of ‘progress’...? In the name of ‘civilization’?

I decide to distract myself from the knot forming in my stomach by watching Barbicane flail in his attempts to establish contact.

Finally, I shake my head. “Think they know Latin?”

Nemo cracks his neck and hands me his boots. “Hoooold these. And that thought. Also this.��

“Huh? Ack!” I shiver as he drops his soaked coat over my shoulders and walks towards Barbicane. When I had fantasized about wearing his coat, it hadn’t been anything like this. Even the lavender smells damp!

My cheeks flush, and with my luck it’s from pneumonia beginning to settle in. I accept my fate and decide to huddle in his coat anyway. It’s not like he’s around to laugh at me.

I’m not surprised when I can hear Nemo speaking (yelling) with the men all the way across the beach. I’m also not surprised when he begins speaking in French, since that’s the language we usually use when we’re alone.

However, when that proves ineffective, the languages fire like bullets: English, German, Spanish, Latin, and then into languages I don’t understand-- all of them with elongated vowels and a bombastic accent, of course.

With each language that Nemo tries, Barbicane’s jaw falls farther and farther and the fishermen shrink farther and farther away.

Was that a Chinese dialect? I think that might have been Russian. I’m only mildly surprised when he resorts to Hindi. Finally, when Nemo begins speaking in Arabic, the fishermen nod.

And that’s when the showtime really begins. Now that he knows they can understand them, Nemo leaps into all the posing and drama that he had been storing inside of him.

... Most of the men begin slinking away.

“Wait!” Cardia runs towards the others, waving. The men stop in their tracks and stare. I can’t say I blame them, she’s quite the vision with her hair shining in the rising sun.

I’m rather grateful that Cardia’s beauty distracts them from noticing me hobbling after her.

Cardia gestures towards Nemo before holding out her hand and offering the fishermen something.

We don’t have any of their coin, but precious metals are universal and that’s what Cyrene Smith had given us for bartering.

Well, bribery seems to provide an effective balm for dealing with Nemo’s theatrics, and soon one of the fishermen gestures for us to follow.

Eventually we reach a group of cabins near the other end of the beach. It looks a little upscale compared to the other buildings, and I can only assume that these cabins are usually rented out by richer visitors and explorers. The countries of South America have been in vogue since Charles Darwin’s travels, and it looks like this place is profiting off it quite nicely.

The fisherman says his farewell to us in perfect Spanish before departing, leaving Nemo scowling after him.

“Well, all’s well that ends well, right?” Barbicane says with a shrug. “Let’s get some cabins and plot our next move.”

I look at Cardia. Though it’s true that she and Barbicane had declared their love for one another, the two of them sharing a cabin might be a bit much for Cardia at this point.

“We can share a cabin if you’d like,” I say.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-----T?!?!”

I’m fairly certain that Nemo’s anguished cry registered as an earthquake.

“B-But Polly-chaaaaaaaaan...!!” Nemo continues whining. “I had so many fuuuuuuun things planned! We were finally going to consummate our looooooove under a blanket of stars---!!!”

Cardia blanches, and Barbicane quickly puts his hands over her ears. “Oy, Nemo, what the hell?! I never want to hear you say the wod ‘consummate’ ever again! I’m having enough nightmares as it is...”

I look around nervously, wondering if there’s a hole I can crawl into.

Cardia reaches up and takes Barbicane’s hands off of her ears, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine, I trust Impey. Besides, I still remember what Van taught me.”

Barbicane and Nemo jump back as she suddenly launches one of her legs upward in a debilitating kick.

“H-Have mercy on me, my angel...” Barbicane weakly stammers.

“Suddenly I’m veeeeeeery grateful that you were so cooperative back at Twilight Headquarters............” Nemo shuffles behind Barbicane and peers around him nervously.

Cardia beams up at the both of them with a look far too angelic for the move she just used.

Nemo’s yelling woke the innkeepers, so we were able to procure two cabins without further delay. At Barbicane’s request, however, our cabins are on either side of the resort. This request confused Nemo greatly, and he’s dragging his feet sullenly as the innkeeper leads us to our cabin far, far away from the others.

It looks cozy, even the peeling white paint somehow looks rustic. At the steps the sandy soil begins to give way to blades of grass, and I can’t wait to take off my boots to walk around.

“I’m really glad Cardia said she would go to the beach with me. I know we’ve spent so much time around them, but this is a completely different continent! Just imagine all the things we can find!"

I lift my arms up and stretch, enjoying the warm sun shining down on me.

“I hope I brought enough journals with me, I’d really like to...” I turn and look at Nemo.

He’s quietly staring at me, jaw slack and cheeks flushed as though he had just noticed something.

I look around before glancing back at him. “What’s wrong?”

He slouches even further, his surprised expression melting into a dopey smile.

“Nooooothing, really... I was just thiiiiiiiiiinking about how good it looks on you...”

“Huh? How good it...? Oh!” I look down, remembering that his jacket was still over my shoulders. “Oh, I-- I must have forgotten... geez...”

I begin to take it off, but he puts his hands on my shoulders to stop me.

“Hmmm, just for a liiiiittle while longer, okay? My style looks... really good on you...”

He moves his hands up to cup my cheeks.

“Really... really........”

His mumurs are only silenced when our lips meet.

Without his jacket on, it’s easier for me to appreciate his slim waist as I wrap my arms around him. It’s not enough, though, and I quickly fumble with my gloves. When I finally reach a hand under his sweater, I shudder in delight at the heat radiating off of his skin.

I lean my forehead against his and grin. “You understand now, right? Why our cabin is so far away from the rest? We have some time before I’m supposed to meet Cardia... can’t we have just a quick partnership before then...?”

“I was trying to wait until tonight...” Nemo presses his lips to my cheek. “But, since you’re insiiiiiiiiiiiisting... who am I to deny you the spectacle of my loooooove?!”

I give an excited shriek when he suddenly picks me up, and I pepper him with kisses wherever my mouth can reach.

However, when he gets to the stairs of the cabin, he wobbles and he mutters a low curse.

“Let’s... let’s try that again...”

He sets me down and lopes up the stairs before offering his hand to me.

I shake my head and take it, laughing as we stumble into the cabin, barely making it to the bed.

-----

“There’s... only one one of them...” Cardia stares down at the large bed taking up most of the space in the room.

“Yeah, looks that way, doesn’t it...” Impey gives a sigh. “Man, and I was looking forward to plump pillows and clean sheets...”

Cardia looks at him and tilts her head.

“H-Hey, I might look like the kind of guy who would take advantage of this, but I’m not going to be a creep to my girlfriend. When we finally share a bed, I want you to open your arms to me and say, 'Impey, my darling! Keep me warm tonight!' I’m getting pumped just thinking about it!”

He grins, caught up in his fantasy. “Yeah, but until that time I’ll just sleep on the floor, okay?”

“.... I wouldn’t mind sharing it,” says Cardia.

“W-Wha... my angel...” Impey puts a hand to his chest. “So forward...! Okay, I’ll work hard to meet your expectations! I’ll meet every passionate moment, Cardia-chan--!”

He moves to embrace her, but Cardia holds her hands up and shakes her head. Impey comes skidding to a stop.

“I just meant sharing it. You’ve worked really hard and we weren’t able to sleep well on the Harper. But I really... really just mean sleeping, Impey.”

Impey looks at her, and at the pretty blush crossing her cheeks. His eager grin turns into a soft smile as he takes a step back.

“Then, I’ll work hard to meet your expectations as the best body warmer boyfriend ever!” Impey flashes a smile and points to himself. “You won’t have to worry about a thing, Cardia-chan! I’ll keep to my side of the bed and make sure you don’t get any cold toes! You’ll have the best night’s sleep ever!”

Cardia laughs. “Not for many hours! I’m going to be going to the beach with Pauline... what do you think you’ll be doing?”

“Might join you, if you don’t mind. I bet you girls will look really cute in your bathing suits!”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnot so fast!”

Nemo strides in through the door. He’s clearly already gone shopping, as instead of his soggy gear he’s dressed in a cotton shirt and trousers with an elaborate pink and purple scarf draped over his shoulders. Somehow, even in this unfamiliar place, he manages to make his style as eccentric as ever.

“Impey Barbicaaaaaaaaaaaane... I need your assistance procuring supplies. The beach will still be there when we’re doooone...”

“Supplies?!” Impey shakes his head. “We packed enough for the round trip! The beach might still be there, but you’re going to make me miss seeing my sun-kissed princess?!”

Nemo frowns deeply, his lips drawn thin. “It’s very.... veeeeeeeery important!”

“More important than Cardia-chan in... huh?” Impey looks out the door of the cabin as his voice trails off.

-----

I feel a little sheepish when Barbicane stares at me. Nemo had insisted that it would look good on me, but...

On my previous expeditions, even when I was oceanside, I’d continue to wear heavy-duty clothing-- just in case. But somehow Nemo had convinced me to wear a proper bathing suit.

It’s a high-waisted one piece with two vertical rows of bronze buttons trailing down the front. It’s mostly navy with white trim to evoke a nautical feeling. As Barbicane continues to stare, I'm suddenly grateful for the sheer wrap I have tied around my waist.

I couldn’t stop smiling when I saw this suit in the market, I told Nemo that if I were a braver woman I’d love to wear something like it.

He bought it for me immediately. I don’t think we have it in our budget, but... in the end it’s really Aleister that paid for it all. Plus, Nemo looked so happy when he gave it to me, smiling adoringly.

“Somedaaaaay...” he said. “I’ll design a really, reeeeally cute uniform for you when you fly with me. Consider this practice until then, hmm?”

Being able to casually explore this seaside town with him, not having to worry about soldiers or anything... it was really nice. I hope that the two of us will be able to have many, many more days like this.

“It’s okay, Impey,” says Cardia. “Maybe we can all go swimming when you’re done.”

“Count on it,” Barbicane nods. “I’m not letting a second paradise slip through my fingers! We worked so hard on Lincoln Island, I’ve gotta relax a bit! You know, enjoy the sunshine, swim a bit, admire the pretty ladies, tinker in the setting sun...”

“Does tinkering really count as relaxing?” I ask.

“Yes,” Nemo and Barbicane speak unanimously.

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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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And that institution has to a very large extent ceased to do its work.- John Gresham Machen • The only people that you really have, that I learned, are your family, because they love you no matter what. – Miley Cyrus • The only rock I know that stays steady, the only institution I know that works, is the family. – Lee Iacocca • The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, lies in its loyalty to each other. – Mario Puzo • The whole world is my family. – Pope John XXIII • There is an interconnectedness among members that bonds the family, much like mountain climbers who rope themselves together when climbing a mountain, so that if someone should slip or need support, he’s held up by the others until he regains his footing. – Phil McGraw • There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human, are created, strengthened and maintained. – Winston Churchill • There’s nothing that makes you more insane than family. Or more happy. Or more exasperated. Or more . . . secure. – Jim Butcher • There’s no vocabulary For love within a family, love that’s lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent. – T. S. Eliot • There’s nothing I value more than the closeness of friends and family, a smile as I pass someone on the street. – Willie Stargell • This is part of what a family is about, not just love. It’s knowing that your family will be there watching out for you. Nothing else will give you that. Not money. Not fame. Not work. – Mitch Albom • To maintain a joyful family requires much from both the parents and the children. Each member of the family has to become, in a special way, the servant of the others. – Pope John Paul II • To put the world in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must first put the family in order; to put the family in order; we must first cultivate our personal life; we must first set our hearts right. – Confucius • To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there. – Barbara Bush • We believed in our idea – a family park where parents and children could have fun- together. – Walt Disney • We must restore the sacredness of the family as a bedrock of humane values everywhere, in peace as well as in war. – Kofi Annan • What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family. – Mother Teresa • What greater blessing to give thanks for at a family gathering than the family and the gathering. – Robert Breault • When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching – they are your family. – Jim Butcher • When trouble comes, it’s your family that supports you. – Guy Lafleur • When you look at your life the greatest happinesses are family happinesses. – Joyce Brothers • Where does the family start? It starts with a young man falling in love with a girl – no superior alternative has yet been found. – Winston Churchill • Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold. – Andre Maurois • Women’s natural role is to be a pillar of the family. – Grace Kelly • You are born into your family and your family is born into you. No returns. No exchanges. – Elizabeth Berg • You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you. – Frederick Buechner • You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them. – Desmond Tutu • You go through life wondering what is it all about but at the end of the day it’s all about family. – Rod Stewart • You leave home to seek your fortune and, when you get it, you go home and share it with your family. – Anita Baker • You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn’t depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family. – Trenton Lee Stewart • Your family and your love must be cultivated like a garden. Time, effort, and imagination must be summoned constantly to keep any relationship flourishing and growing. – Jim Rohn

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jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Family Quotes

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viralhottopics · 8 years

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The 16 Most Beautifully Touching Love Letters From Famous Writers And Artists

1. Allen Ginsburg to poet Peter Orlovsky:

Dear Petey:

O Heart O Love everything is suddenly turned to gold! Dont be afraid dont worry the most astounding beautiful thing has happened here! I dont know where to begin but the most important. When Bill [ed: William S. Burroughs] came I, we, thought it was the same old Bill mad, but something had happened to Bill in the meantime since we last saw him…but last night finally Bill and I sat down facing each other across the kitchen table and looked eye to eye and talked, and I confessed all my doubt and misery and in front of my eyes he turned into an Angel!

What happened to him in Tangiers this last few months? It seems he stopped writing and sat on his bed all afternoons thinking and meditating alone & stopped drinking and finally dawned on his consciousness, slowly and repeatedly, every day, for several months awareness of a benevolent sentient (feeling) center to the whole Creation he had apparently, in his own way, what I have been so hung up in myself and you, a vision of big peaceful Lovebrain…

I woke up this morning with great bliss of freedom & joy in my heart, Bills saved, Im saved, youre saved, were all saved, everything has been all rapturous ever since I only feel sad that perhaps you left as worried when we waved goodby and kissed so awkwardly I wish I could have that over to say goodby to you happier & without the worries and doubts I had that dusty dusk when you left Bill is changed nature, I even feel much changed, great clouds rolled away, as I feel when you and I were in rapport, well, our rapport has remained in me, with me, rather than losing it, Im feeling to everyone, something of the same as between us.

2. Frida Kahlo to Diego Rivera:

Diego:

Truth is, so great, that I wouldnt like to speak, or sleep, or listen, or love. To feel myself trapped, with no fear of blood, outside time and magic, within your own fear, and your great anguish, and within the very beating of your heart. All this madness, if I asked it of you, I know, in your silence, there would be only confusion. I ask you for violence, in the nonsense, and you, you give me grace, your light and your warmth. Id like to paint you, but there are no colors, because there are so many, in my confusion, the tangible form of my great love.

3. Oscar Wilde to Lord Alred Bosie Douglas (Wilde’s eventual muse):

My Own Boy,

Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red rose-leaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days.

Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there to cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and lacks only you; but go to Salisbury first.

Always, with undying love, yours, Oscar

4. Eleanor Roosevelt to Lorena Hickok (Eleanor’s long-speculated lover):

Hick, darling

Ah, how good it was to hear your voice. It was so inadequate to try and tell you what it meant. Funny was that I couldnt say je taime and je tadore as I longed to do, but always remember that I am saying it, that I go to sleep thinking of you.

5. Emma Darwin to Charles Darwin:

I cannot tell you the compassion I have felt for all your sufferings for these weeks past that you have had so many drawbacks. Nor the gratitude I have felt for the cheerful & affectionate looks you have given me when I know you have been miserably uncomfortable.

My heart has often been too full to speak or take any notice I am sure you know I love you well enough to believe that I mind your sufferings nearly as much as I should my own & I find the only relief to my own mind is to take it as from Gods hand, & to try to believe that all suffering & illness is meant to help us to exalt our minds & to look forward with hope to a future state. When I see your patience, deep compassion for others self command & above all gratitude for the smallest thing done to help you I cannot help longing that these precious feelings should be offered to Heaven for the sake of your daily happiness. But I find it difficult enough in my own case. I often think of the words Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee. It is feeling & not reasoning that drives one to prayer. I feel presumptuous in writing thus to you.

I feel in my inmost heart your admirable qualities & feelings & all I would hope is that you might direct them upwards, as well as to one who values them above every thing in the world. I shall keep this by me till I feel cheerful & comfortable again about you but it has passed through my mind often lately so I thought I would write it partly to relieve my own mind.

6. English poet Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf:

…I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your undumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldnt even feel it. And yet I believe youll be sensible of a little gap. But youd clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it should lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shant make you love me any more by giving myself away like this But oh my dear, I cant be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I dont love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses. And I dont really resent it.

7. E.B. White to his wife on the occasion of her pregnancy, “written” by their dog:

Dear Mrs. White:

I like having Josephine here in the morning, although I suppose I will get less actual thinking done as I used to do my thinking mornings in the bathroom. White has been stewing around for two days now, a little bit worried because he is not sure that he has made you realize how glad he is that there is to be what the column writer in the Mirror calls a blessed event. So I am taking this opportunity, Mrs. White, to help him out to the extent of writing you a brief note which I havent done in quite a long time but have been a little sick myself as you know. Well, the truth is White is beside himself and would have said more about it but is holding himself back, not wanting to appear ludicrous to a veteran mother. What he feels, he told me, is a strange queer tight little twitchy feeling around the inside of his throat whenever he thinks that something is happening which will require so much love and all on account of you being so wonderful. (I am not making myself clear I am afraid, but on the occasions when White has spoken privately with me about this he was in no condition to make himself clear either and I am just doing the best I can in my own way.) I know White so well that I always know what is the matter with him, and it always comes to the same thing he gets thinking that nothing that he writes or says ever quite expresses his feeling, and he worries about his inarticulateness just the same as he does about his bowels, except it is worse, and it makes him either mad, or sick, or with a prickly sensation in the head. But my, my, my, last Sunday he was so full of this matter which he couldnt talk about, and he was what Josephine in her simple way would call hoppy, and particularly so because it seemed so good that everything was starting at once I mean those things, whatever they are, that are making such a noise over in the pond by Palmer Lewiss house, and the song sparrow that even I could hear from my confinement in the house, and those little seeds that you were sprinkling up where the cut glass and bones used to be all starting at the same time as the baby, which he seems to think exists already by the way he stands around staring at you and muttering little prayers. Of course he is also very worried for fear you will get the idea that he is regarding you merely as a future mother and not as a present person, or that he wants a child merely as a vindication of his vanity. I doubt if those things are true; White enjoys animal husbandry of all kinds including his own; and as for his regard for you, he has told me that, quite apart from this fertility, he admires you in all kinds of situations or dilemmas, some of which he says have been quite dirty.

Well, Mrs. White, I expect I am tiring you with this long letter, but as you often say yourself, a husband and wife should tell each other about the things that are on their mind, otherwise you get nowhere, and White didnt seem to be able to tell you about his happiness, so thought I would attempt to put in a word.

White is getting me a new blanket, as the cushion in the bathroom is soiled.

Lovingly, Daisy

8. Charles Eames’ marriage proposal to Ray Eames:

Dear Miss Kaiser,

I am 34 (almost) years old, singel (again) and broke. I love you very much and would like to marry you very very soon.* I cannot promise to support us very well. but if given the chance I will shure in hell try

*soon means very soon.

What is the size of this finger??

as soon as I get to that hospital I will write reams well little ones.

love xxxxxxxxxx

Charlie

9. Jean-Paul Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir:

My dear little girl

For a long time Ive been wanting to write to you in the evening after one of those outings with friends that I will soon be describing in A Defeat, the kind when the world is ours. I wanted to bring you my conquerors joy and lay it at your feet, as they did in the Age of the Sun King. And then, tired out by all the shouting, I always simply went to bed. Today Im doing it to feel the pleasure you dont yet know, of turning abruptly from friendship to love, from strength to tenderness. Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. This happens much more often than I admit to you, but seldom when Im writing to you. Try to understand me: I love you while paying attention to external things. At Toulouse I simply loved you. Tonight I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love.

My dear little girl, as Ive told you, what youre lacking is friendship. But now is the time for more practical advice. Couldnt you find a woman friend? How can Toulouse fail to contain one intelligent young woman worthy of you*? But you wouldnt have to love her. Alas, youre always ready to give your love, its the easiest thing to get from you. Im not talking about your love for me, which is well beyond that, but you are lavish with little secondary loves, like that night in Thiviers when you loved that peasant walking downhill in the dark, whistling away, who turned out to be me. Get to know the feeling, free of tenderness, that comes from being two. Its hard, because all friendship, even between two red-blooded men, has its moments of love. I have only to console my grieving friend to love him; its a feeling easily weakened and distorted. But youre capable of it, and you must experience it. And so, despite your fleeting misanthropy, have you imagined what a lovely adventure it would be to search Toulouse for a woman who would be worthy of you and whom you wouldnt be in love with? Dont bother with the physical side or the social situation. And search honestly. And if you find nothing, turn Henri Pons, whom you scarcely love anymore, into a friend.

[]

I love you with all my heart and soul.

10. Honor de Balzac to Countess Ewelina Haska (June, 1835):

MY BELOVED ANGEL,

I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them. I can no longer think of nothing but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me. As for my heart, there you will always be very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have deprived me of my reason? This is a monomania which, this morning, terrifies me. I rise up every moment say to myself, Come, I am going there! Then I sit down again, moved by the sense of my obligations. There is a frightful conflict. This is not a life. I have never before been like that. You have devoured everything. I feel foolish and happy as soon as I let myself think of you. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. What a horrible situation! Overcome with love, feeling love in every pore, living only for love, and seeing oneself consumed by griefs, and caught in a thousand spiders threads. O, my darling Eva, you did not know it. I picked up your card. It is there before me, and I talked to you as if you were here. I see you, as I did yesterday, beautiful, astonishingly beautiful. Yesterday, during the whole evening, I said to myself She is mine! Ah! The angels are not as happy in Paradise as I was yesterday!

11. Napoleon Bonaparte to Josphine de Beauharnais:

I am going to bed with my heart full of your adorable image I cannot wait to give you proofs of my ardent love How happy I would be if I could assist you at your undressing, the little firm white breast, the adorable face, the hair tied up in a scarf a la creole. You know that I will never forget the little visits, you know, the little black forest I kiss it a thousand times and wait impatiently for the moment I will be in it. To live within Josephine is to live in the Elysian fields. Kisses on your mouth, your eyes, your breast, everywhere, everywhere.

12. John Keats to Fanny Brawne:

My sweet love, I shall wait patiently till tomorrow before I see you, and in the mean time, if there is any need of such a thing, assure you by your Beauty, that whenever I have at any time written on a certain unpleasant subject, it has been with your welfare impressd upon my mind. How hurt I should have been had you ever acceded to what is, notwithstanding, very reasonable! How much the more do I love you from the general result! In my present state of Health I feel too much separated from you and could almost speak to you in the words of Lorenzos Ghost to Isabella

Your Beauty grows upon me and I feel A greater love through all my essence steal.

My greatest torment since I have known you has been the fear of you being a little inclined to the Cressid; but that suspicion I dismiss utterly and remain happy in the surety of your Love, which I assure you is as much a wonder to me as a delight. Send me the words Good night to put under my pillow.

Dearest Fanny, Your affectionate J.K.

13. Lord Byron to Teresa Guiccioli (August, 1819):

My dearest Teresa,

I have read this book in your garden;–my love, you were absent, or else I could not have read it. It is a favourite book of yours, and the writer was a friend of mine. You will not understand these English words, and others will not understand them,–which is the reason I have not scrawled them in Italian. But you will recognize the handwriting of him who passionately loved you, and you will divine that, over a book which was yours, he could only think of love.

In that word, beautiful in all languages, but most so in yours–Amor mio–is comprised my existence here and hereafter. I feel I exist here, and I feel I shall exist hereafter,–to what purpose you will decide; my destiny rests with you, and you are a woman, eighteen years of age, and two out of a convent. I love you, and you love me,–at least, you say so, and act as if you did so, which last is a great consolation in all events.

But I more than love you, and cannot cease to love you. Think of me, sometimes, when the Alps and ocean divide us, –but they never will, unless you wish it.

14. Voltaire to Olympe Dunover, written while in prison for their affair:

I am a prisoner here in the name of the King; they can take my life, but not the love that I feel for you. Yes, my adorable mistress, to-night I shall see you, and if I had to put my head on the block to do it.

For heaven’s sake, do not speak to me in such disastrous terms as you write; you must live and be cautious; beware of madame your mother as of your worst enemy. What do I say? Beware of everybody; trust no one; keep yourself in readiness, as soon as the moon is visible; I shall leave the hotel incognito, take a carriage or a chaise, we shall drive like the wind to Sheveningen; I shall take paper and ink with me; we shall write our letters.

If you love me, reassure yourself; and call all your strength and presence of mind to your aid; do not let your mother notice anything, try to have your pictures, and be assured that the menace of the greatest tortures will not prevent me to serve you. No, nothing has the power to part me from you; our love is based upon virtue, and will last as long as our lives. Adieu, there is nothing that I will not brave for your sake; you deserve much more than that. Adieu, my dear heart!

Arout (Voltaire)

15. Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn:

TO MY MISTRESS. Because the time seems very long since I heard concerning your health and you, the great affection I have for you has induced me to send you this bearer, to be better informed of your health and pleasure, and because, since my parting from you, I have been told that the opinion in which I left you is totally changed, and that you would not come to court either with your mother, if you could, or in any other manner; which report, if true, I cannot sufficiently marvel at, because I am sure that I have since never done any thing to offend you, and it seems a very poor return for the great love which I bear you to keep me at a distance both from the speech and the person of the woman that I esteem most in the world: and if you love me with as much affection as I hope you do, I am sure that the distance of our two persons would be a little irksome to you, though this does not belong so much to the mistress as to the servant.

Consider well, my mistress, that absence from you grieves me sorely, hoping that it is not your will that it should be so; but if I knew for certain that you voluntarily desired it, I could do no other than mourn my ill-fortune, and by degrees abate my great folly. And so, for lack of time, I make an end of this rude letter, beseeching you to give credence to this bearer in all that he will tell you from me.

Written by the hand of your entire Servant, H.R.

16. Leo Tolstoy to Valeria Arsenev (November, 1856):

I already love in you your beauty, but I am only beginning to love in you that which is eternal and ever previous your heat, your soul. Beauty one could get to know and fall in love with in one hour and cease to love it as speedily; but the soul one must learn to know. Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labour, even love, the most beautiful and natural of feelings.