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Dear B, My letters will have shown you how lonely I am...and at every beautiful spot I wish you were there. I can't help loving you more than is good for me; I shall feel all the happier when I see you again. V


Pietro Bembo to Lucrezia Borgia
~October 18, 1503~


Eight days have passed since I parted from F.F., and already it is as though I had been eight years away from her, although I can avow that not one hour has passed without her memory which has become such a close companion to my thoughts that now more than ever is it the food and sustenance of my soul; and if it should endure like this a few days more, as seems it must, I truly believe it will in every way have assumed the office of my soul, and I shall then live and thrive on the memory of her as do other men upon their souls, and I shall have no life but in this single thought. Let the God who so decrees do as he will, so long as in exchange I may have as much a part of her as shall suffice to prove the gospel of our affinity is founded on true prophecy. Often I find myself recalling, and with what ease, certain words spoken to me, some on the balcony with the moon as witness, others at that window I shall always look upon so gladly, with all the many endearing and gracious acts I have seen my gentle lady perform---for all are dancing about my heart with a tenderness so wondrous that they inflame me with a strong desire to beg her to test the quality of my love. For I shall never rest content until I am certain she knows what she is able to enact in me and how great and strong is the fire that her great worth has kindled in my breast. The flame of true love is a mighty force, and most of all when two equally matched wills in two exalted minds contend to see which loves the most, each striving to give yet more vital proof....It would be the greatest delight for me to see just two lines in F.F.'s hand, yet I dare not ask so much. May your ladyship beseech her to perform whatever you feel is best for me. With my heart I kiss your Ladyship's hand, since I cannot with my lips.

--Pietro


Johann von Goethe to Charlotte Von Stein
One of 1500 Letters and notes
from 13 Year Affair
~June 17, 1784~




My letters will have shown you how lonely I am. I don't dine at Court, I see few people, and take my walks alone, and at every beautiful spot I wish you were there. I can't help loving you more than is good for me; I shall feel all the happier when I see you again.

I am always conscious of my nearness to you, your presence never leaves me. In you I have a measure for every woman, for everyone; in your love a measure for all that is to be. Not in the sense that the rest of the world seems obscure to me, on the contrary, your love makes it clear; I see quite clearly what men are like and what they plan,wish, do and enjoy; I don't grudge them what they have, and comparing is a secret joy to me, possessing as I do such an imperishable treasure.

You in your household must feel as I often do in my affairs; we often don't notice objects simply because we don't choose to look at them, but things acquire an interest as soon as we see clearly the way they are related to each other. For we always like to join in, and the good man takes pleasure in arranging, putting in order and furthering the right and its peaceful rule.

The elephant's skull is coming with me to Weimar. My rock studies are going very well. Fritz is happy and good. Without noticing it, he is taken into the world, and so without knowing it, he will become familiar with it. It is still all a game to him; yesterday I got him to read some petitions and give me summaries of them; he laughted like anything and wouldn't believe that people could be in such straits as these petitions made out.

Adieu, you whom I love a thousand times.
--Goethe



HENRY IV to Gabrielle d'Estrees
At the age of 26 [1599] Gabrielle, expecting their third child, went into a difficult labor, and died in childbirth the next day. A mourning Henry wrote:

"the roots of love are dead within me and will never spring to life again."

Mozart to his wife, Constanze


~October 17, 1790~

PS.---While I was writing the last page, tear after tear fell on the paper. But I must cheer up--catch!---An astonishing number of kisses are flying about---The deuce!---I see a whole crowd of them! Ha! Ha!...I have just caught three---They are delicious!---You can still answer this letter, but you must address your reply to Linz, Poste Restante---That is the safest course. As I do not yet know for certain whether I shall go to Regensburg, I can't tell you anything definite. Just write on the cover that the letter is to be kept until called for. Adieu---Dearest, most beloved little wife---Take care of your health---and don't think of walking into town. Do write and tell me how you like our new quarters---Adieu. I kiss you millions of times. Mozart


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