More Than My Own Life

Frida Kahlo to Emmy Lou Packard
- October 24, 1940 -

Simply A Picture

Paul Bransom to Grace Bond
- ca. 1905 -

(from the Smithsonian's Archives of American Art)

Naked And Alone We Came Into Exile

Introduction to Look Homeward, Angel (1929)
Thomas Wolfe Dedicated the Book to Aline Bernstein

...a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.

I Want To Bury Myself In You

Tsarina Alexandra to Tsar Nicholas II of Russia
- December 30, 1915 -

Off you go again alone and it's with a heavy heart I part from you. No more kisses and tender caresses for ever so long -- I want to bury myself in you, hold you tight in my arms, make you feel the intense love of mine.

You are my very life, Sweetheart, and every separation gives such endless heartache...

Goodbye my angel, husband of my heart. I envy my flowers that will accompany you. I press you tightly to my breast, kiss every sweet place with tender love...

God bless and protect you, guard you from all harm, guide you safely and firmly into the new year. May it bring glory and sure peace, and the reward for all this war has cost you.

I gently press my lips to yours and try to forget everything, gazing into your lovely eyes -- I lay on your precious breast, rested my tired head upon it still. This morning I tried to gain calm and strength for the separation.

Goodbye wee one, lovebird, sunshine, huzy mine, onw!

~Alexandra

Dedicated To Liberty And Love, Pt. 1

He was a philosopher, a political economist, a public servant and a member of parliament, but above all he loved her. More than his philosophies. More than notoriety. More than all his bound volumes, many of whom he credits her with collaborating and writing.

The following reads John Stuart Mill's dedication in the publication of On Liberty to his wife, Harriet Taylor Mill:

Dedicated To Liberty And Love, Pt. 2

John Stuart Mill to Harriet Taylor Mill
- March 20, 1854 -

I am but fit to be one wheel in an engine, not to be the self moving engine itself - a real majestic intellect, not to say moral nature like yours, I can only look up and admire.

I shall never be satisfied unless you allow our best book, the book which is to come, to have our two names on the title page. It ought to be so with everything I publish, for the better half of it all is yours, but the book which will contain our best thoughts, if it has only one name to it, that should be yours.

Delegate To Them The Duty Of Watching

Juliette Drouet to Victor Hugo
- Sometime in 1835 -

If only I were a clever woman, I could describe to you, my gorgeous bird, how you unite in yourself the beauties of form, plumage, and song!

I would tell you that you are the greatest marvel of all ages, and I should only be speaking the simple truth. But to put all this into suitable words, my superb one, I should require a voice far more harmonious than that which is bestowed upon my species - for I am the humble owl that you mocked at only lately, therefore, it cannot be.

I will not tell you to what degree you are dazzling and to the birds of sweet song who, as you know, are none the less beautiful and appreciative.

I am content to delegate to them the duty of watching, listening and admiring, while to myself I reserve the right of loving; this may be less attractive to the ear, but it is sweeter far to the heart.

I love you, I love you. my Victor; I can not reiterate it too often; I can never express it as much as I feel it.

I recognize you in all the beauty that surrounds me: in form, in colour, in perfume, in harmonious sound. All of these mean you to me. You are superior to all I see and admire - you are all!

You are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colours, but the sun himself, that illumines, warms, and revives! This is what you are, and I am the lowly woman that adores you.

~Juliette

(Drouet, a French actress, wrote passionate and lyrical love letters to Hugo for over 50 years.)

So That You Faint And Die

Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet
-- August 15, 1846 --

I will cover you with love when next I see you,
with caresses, with ecstasy.

I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh,
so that you faint and die.

I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to
yourself that you had never dreamed of such
transports...

When you are old, I want you to recall those few
hours, and I want your dry bones to quiver with joy
when you think of them.