Romantic Ideas Online, Life Can Be a Honeymoon! Romance Ideas and Romantic Tips

Romantic Ideas Online, Life Can Be a Honeymoon! Romance Ideas and Romantic Tips.

Excerpts from Famous Love Letters: Victor Hugo

Victor Hugo-Young

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Victor-Marie Hugo was born 26 February 1802  and died 22 May 1885. He was a French poet, visual artist, playwright, novelist, essayist, human rights activist, statesman and important exponent of the Romantic movement in France. He was the third illegitimate son of Sophie Trébuchet (1772–1821) and Joseph Léopold Sigisbert Hugo (1774–1828).  Against his mother’s wishes, young Victor fell in love and became secretly engaged to his childhood friend Adèle Foucher (1803–1868). He married Adèle (in 1822) only after his mother’s death in 1821.

Famous Love Letters: Victor Hugo:

My adorable and adored

I have been asking myself every moment if such happiness is not a dream.

It seems to me that what I feel is not of earth. I cannot yet comprehend this cloudless heaven.

My whole soul is yours.

My Adele, why is there no word for this but joy? Is it because there is no power in human speech to express such happiness?sometimes I tremble lest I should suddenly awaken from this dream divine.

Oh, now you are mine! At last you are mine! Soon — in a few months, perhaps, my angel will sleep in my arms, will awaken in my arms, will live there.

All your thoughts at all moments, all your looks will be for me; all my thoughts, all my moments, all my looks, will be for you!

Adieu, my angel, my beloved Adele! Adieu!

Still I am far from you, but I can dream of you.

Soon perhaps you will be at my side.

Adieu; pardon the delirium of your husband who embraces you, and who adores you, both for this life and another.

Excerpts from Famous Love Letters: Nathaniel Hawthorne

Author Nathaniel Hawthorne had close ties to A...

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Famous Love Letters: Nathaniel Hawthorne:

Dearest, – I wish I had the gift of making rhymes, for methinks there is poetry in my head and heart since I have been in love with you.

You are a Poem.

Of what sort, then? Epic?

Mercy on me, no! A sonnet?

No; for that is too labored and artificial.

You are a sort of sweet, simple, gay, pathetic ballad, which Nature is singing, sometimes with tears, sometimes with smiles, and sometimes with intermingled smiles and tears.