Yetkin, ama acı veren bir büyü ile buradasınız! Benim burada olduğum gibi, daha da elle tutulur biçimde; ben neredeysem siz de oradasınız, benim olduğum kadar, daha da belirli.
The art of letters will come to an end before A.D. 2000. I shall survive as a curiosity.
I read somewhere that dedications are like coded love letters, but I always seem to lay us out bare.Sorry for the poems.
Together they will spend a happy hour seated side by side..., while Ivy's tender hand guides Duffy's as he traces out laboriously, in pencil, over and over until he has them off pat, the magic letters...
My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading.
You can live to be old or young, but you'll always have moments when you lose your head.
Calamity with us, is made an excuse for doing wrong. With them, it is erected into a reason for their doing right. This is really the justice of rich to poor, and I protest against it because it is so...
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
Into each dance must be packed the panic and ecstasy of her last moment of life, for underneath was death.
Let your heart dance with pen and paperNow fill the paper with dancing letters.
I thought I had everything until I found you.
Nothing and no one in the world could kill the love I have for you. I have surrendered my whole individuality, the very essence of my being to you. I have given you my body time after time to treat as...
The awful part of the writing game is that you can never be sure the stuff is any good.
To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.
It gave me a queer feeling. Yesterday or the day before, while I had been going about my business, quietly and in private, some unknown person some had gone to the trouble of marking my name on thi...
it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing.
Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.
It's funny; in this era of e-mail and voice mail and all those things that even I did not grow up with, a plain old paper letter takes on amazing intimacy.
I'm always running into the Sunday God of churchgoing Christians and cannot help noticing that he doesn't help out much on weekdays.
I am very pleased you like my stories. They are studies in prose, put for Romance's sake into fanciful form: meant partly for children, and partly for those who have kept the childlike faculties of wo...