50 Great Love Letters You Have To Read (Golden Deer Classics)

Letter 10
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 de‍

At my actual age I should need some continuity, sameness of life — can that exist under our circumstances?

Your love made me the happiest and unhappiest at the same time.

— as you too love — yet I love you stronger —

Brighten up — remain my true and only treasure, my all, as I to you.

if the Lord shall deliver me into the hands of my enemies so that they overcome and kill me…’? My dearest, how could you think such a thought? How could you give voice to it? Never may God be so forgetful of his humble

handmaids as to let them outlive you; never may he grant us a life which would be harder to bear than any form of death.

and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

prived 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