It's the simple things about you that turn me inside out; but, when we kiss, I burn raw 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. I have loved her for a long time, but more deeply and strongly since , when she spent six weeks in Petersburg. On his release, Wilde left the country to live in France in exile, where he died destitute in Their affair was exciting, passionate and turbulent. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.
It is there before me, and I talked to you as if you were here. They talk of my going to Italy. It tells me you like what we do and how we do it. You are to me an object intensely desirable — the air I breathe in a room empty of you in unhealthy. Alcoholism, mental illness, infidelity and bitter acrimony, for many years conducted for the most part against the beautiful, luxurious backdrop of southern France and Europe — caused great fissures in their relationship. Let's indulge some more I can no longer think of nothing but you. It's all about describing feelings and emotions - pulling your senses into the fray peppered with sexy love words and expressions. Nicholas later wrote in his diary: I crave that next kiss; the one that always leads to more. Balzac began writing them in and continued to do so over the next 20 years. 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. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. Wilde actually sued the Marquess for libel, but as a result of the details exposed about his own private life, Wilde found himself being prosecuted for committing gross indecency with members of his own sex. Their affair was exciting, passionate and turbulent. This morning I tried to gain calm and strength for the separation. I have a delicious sense of you there. If prison and dishonour be my destiny, think that my love for you and this idea, this still more divine belief, that you love me in return will sustain me in my unhappiness and will make me capable, I hope, of bearing my grief most patiently. 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. 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. He is perhaps most remembered today for the extremely brutal circumstances in which he and his family were incarcerated and later murdered after the Russian Revolution. 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 have never before been like that. Sadly, Balzac died just five months later, in August of that year. Scott Fitzgerald has been recounted time and time again in words and on film. I wish I could say in an agreeable manner.
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