What do you think?
Rate this book


156 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2008
Were I to consult my merits my humility would chide any shadow of hope; but after a sight of such a face whose whole composition is a smile of good nature, why should I be so unjust as to suspect you of cruelty.
It is true that you are not handsome, for you are a woman and think you are not: but this good humour and tenderness for me has a charm that cannot be resisted.
I am vain enough to conclude that (like most young fellows) a fine lady's silence is consent and so I write on –
my whole existence is devoted to her, even in spite of her. [...] My duty is to keep close to her steps, to surround her existence with mine, to serve her as a barrier against all dangers [...]
Do not put yourself out; run after pleasures; happiness is made for you. The entire world is too glad to be able to please you, and only your husband is very, very unhappy.
Thou art horrid, very awkward, very stupid, a very Cinderella.
For a few years you may flutter in some frivolous circle. But the time will come when you will sigh for any heart that could be fond and despair of one that can be faithful. [...] then you will recall to your memory the passionate heart that you have forfeited, and the genius you have betrayed.
Dear little wife, I have a number of requests to make. I beg you
[...]
(3) not to go out walking alone - and preferably not to go out walking at all,
[...]
(5) I beg in your conduct not only to be careful of your honour and mine, but also to consider appearances. Do not be angry with me for asking this. You ought to love me even more for thus valuing our honour.
How have you passed this month? Who have you smil'd with? [...] For myself I have been a Martyr the whole time [...] You may have altered - if you have not - if you still behave in dancing rooms and other societies as I have seen you - I do not want to live - if you have done so I wish this coming night may be my last.
I cannot live without you, and not only you, but chaste you, virtuous you.
Josephine, beware, one fine night the doors will break open and I will be there.
Could I not become to you what you were to me, then my suffering would have distressed you, and I would have destroyed the most beautiful harmony of our friendship through my confession.
I thought of asking your permission to meet you by chance in Freibourg.Pierre Curie to Maria Sklodovska, 1894
I want practice in ill-treatment of the female sex,–I did not observe Lyell had any compunction; I hope to harden my conscience in time: few husbands seem to find it difficult to effect this.
One thing I am [as] sure of as that I exist: that is that I have all your heart and all your love. So I just want you to enjoy yourself - I love you so much. Have a topping time on the river and at shows, etc, with your friends, won't you?
a wild, delicious excitement which I would not have lost for the world. [...] everything has a gloss upon it.
You will only expect a few words. What will those be? When the heart is full it may run over; but the real fulness stays within... Words can never tell you... how perfectly dear you are to me - perfectly dear to my heart and soul. I look back in every one point, every word and gesture, every letter, every silence - you have been entirely perfect to me - I would not change one word, one look. [...] I am all gratitude - and all pride... that my life has been so crowned by you.
Livy darling,
Six years have gone by since I made my first great success in life and won you, and thirty years have passed since Providence made preparation for that happy success by sending you into the world. Every day we live together adds to my confidence, that we can never any more wish to be separated than that we can ever imagine a regret that we were ever joined.
I do hope you are all well and having as jolly a time as we are, for I love you, sweetheart, and also, in a measure, the Bays [his small daughter's word for "babies"].
I think I was always more at ease alone than in anybody's company, till I knew thee.
I do not love thee any more; on the contrary, I detest thee. Thou art horrid, very awkward, very stupid, a very Cinderella. Thou dost not write me at all, thou dost not love thy husband; thou knowest the pleasure that thy letters afford him...
I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else. I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.
Of your beloved
L
Ever thine.
Ever mine.
Ever ours.
-Beethoven, Love Letter