Some feelings were written down long before us, and they still fit…
Borrowed words, kept warm between the pages…
On love, in words far older than us
Love letters
V
"I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days. Three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain."
John Keats, from a letter, 1819
"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. I have loved none but you."
Jane Austen, Persuasion
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach."
