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Honoré de Balzac

    b8985994640цитируетв прошлом году
    deck out thought,
    Mi gato calculistaцитирует2 года назад
    Fuelled by black coffee
    Mi gato calculistaцитирует2 года назад
    there are 2,472 named characters in The Human Comedy), Balzac fashioned a ver
    Mi gato calculistaцитирует2 года назад
    go to bed at six or seven in the evening, like the hens. I am called at one in the morning and work until eight. At eight I go to sleep again for an hour and a half; then I have something very light, a cup of pure coffee, and harness myself to my cab until four. At four I receive visitors, have a bath or go out. After dinner I go to bed.
    Stefan Konceptцитирует2 года назад
    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, Own!
    b2140623215цитируетв прошлом году
    Yes, I have determined to wander about for so long far away, until I can fly into your arms and call myself quite at home with you, can send my soul enveloped by yours into the realm of spirits
    b2140623215цитируетв прошлом году
    O, my darling Eva, you did not know it. I picked up your card. It is there before me, and I talked to you as if you were here. I see you, as I did yesterday, beautiful, astonishingly beautiful.

    Yesterday, during the whole evening, I said to myself ‘She is mine!’ Ah! The angels are not as happy in Paradise as I was yesterday
    b2140623215цитируетв прошлом году
    prived me of my reason? This is a monomania which, this morning, terrifies me.

    I rise up every moment say to myself, ‘Come, I am going there!’ Then I sit down again, moved by the sense of my obligations. There is a frightful conflict. This is not a life. I have never before been like that. You have devoured everything.

    I feel foolish and happy as soon as I let myself think of you. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. What a horrible situation!

    Overcome with love, feeling love in every pore, living only for love, and seeing oneself consumed by griefs, and caught in a thousand spiders’ threads
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    Letter 10
    June 1835
    MY BELOVED ANGEL,

    I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them.

    I can no longer think of nothing but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.

    As for my heart, there you will always be — very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have de‍
    b2140623215цитируетв прошлом году
    and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
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