Blog Archive
-
▼
2011
(49)
-
▼
May
(33)
- Did you know...?
- Quotes Du Coeur
- Lillian's Kitchen: Asparagus and Eggs
- Meanwhile, across the pond....
- The Victorian X-Files: Mummy Meds and Parties
- A Fashionable Fashion Plate
- For the reenactress! Regency updo tutorial
- 150th Series: Col. Elmer Ellsworth killed
- Did you know...?
- Quotes Du Coeur
- Lillian's Kitchen: Gravy for any meat
- Meanwhile, across the pond....
- 150th Series: North Carolina secedes from the Union
- The Victorian X-Files: Fiji Mermaid
- A Fashionable Fashion Plate
- For the reenactress! Twisted braided bun tutorial
- Did you know...?
- Quotes Du Coeur
- Lillian's Kitchen: Boiled Fowls with Oysters
- The Victorian X-Files: Death Photography
- For the reenactress! Braided bun tutorial
- Did you know...?
- Quotes Du Coeur
- Lillian's Kitchen: Catsup
- Happy Mother's Day!
- Meanwhile, across the pond....
- 150th Series: Arkansas secedes from the Union
- The Victorian X-Files: Seances, Mediums and the Fo...
- A Fashionable Fashion Plate
- For the reenactress! Chignon tutorial
- Did you know...?
- Quotes Du Coeur
- Lillian's Kitchen: Apple Jonathan
-
▼
May
(33)
About Me
- Jessica Jewett
- I'm an author, artist and spiritual intuitive. My professional name is Jessica Jewett, which is taken from my maternal family line and to honor the other author in my family, Sarah Orne Jewett. I have published a Civil War novel and several short stories and articles. I'm deeply involved in paranormal and reincarnation research as well.
Followers
Favorite Blogs
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
New Scholarship Demands a Rewrite8 years ago
-
Don't Mess With Tradtion9 years ago
-
-
-
Myths of The 3 Day - Part 112 years ago
-
-
Video from the Half!13 years ago
-
How are ya, Pumpkin?13 years ago
-
-
-
Powered by Blogger.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Quotes Du Coeur
This is a letter from poet John Keats to his beloved Fanny.
Wednesday Morng. [Kentish Town, 1820]
My Dearest Girl,
I have been a walk this morning with a book in my hand, but as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you: I wish I could say in an agreeable manner. I am tormented day and night. They talk of my going to Italy. 'Tis certain I shall never recover if I am to be so long separate from you: yet with all this devotion to you I cannot persuade myself into any confidence of you....
You are to me an object intensely desirable -- the air I breathe in a room empty of you in unhealthy. I am not the same to you -- no -- you can wait -- you have a thousand activities -- you can be happy without me. Any party, anything to fill up the day has been enough.
How have you pass'd this month? Who have you smil'd with? All this may seem savage in me. You do no feel as I do -- you do not know what it is to love -- one day you may -- your time is not come....
I cannot live without you, and not only you but chaste you; virtuous you. The Sun rises and sets, the day passes, and you follow the bent of your inclination to a certain extent -- you have no conception of the quantity of miserable feeling that passes through me in a day -- Be serious! Love is not a plaything -- and again do not write unless you can do it with a crystal conscience. I would sooner die for want of you than ---
Yours for ever
J. Keats
Wednesday Morng. [Kentish Town, 1820]
My Dearest Girl,
I have been a walk this morning with a book in my hand, but as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you: I wish I could say in an agreeable manner. I am tormented day and night. They talk of my going to Italy. 'Tis certain I shall never recover if I am to be so long separate from you: yet with all this devotion to you I cannot persuade myself into any confidence of you....
You are to me an object intensely desirable -- the air I breathe in a room empty of you in unhealthy. I am not the same to you -- no -- you can wait -- you have a thousand activities -- you can be happy without me. Any party, anything to fill up the day has been enough.
How have you pass'd this month? Who have you smil'd with? All this may seem savage in me. You do no feel as I do -- you do not know what it is to love -- one day you may -- your time is not come....
I cannot live without you, and not only you but chaste you; virtuous you. The Sun rises and sets, the day passes, and you follow the bent of your inclination to a certain extent -- you have no conception of the quantity of miserable feeling that passes through me in a day -- Be serious! Love is not a plaything -- and again do not write unless you can do it with a crystal conscience. I would sooner die for want of you than ---
Yours for ever
J. Keats
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment