<3

"Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else. The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you against the unpromising morning of my Life. My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving - I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you...I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shuddr'd at it. I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet. You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resistl and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often 'to reason against the reasons of my Love.' I can do that no more - the pain would be too great. My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you."

"Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom...For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd bu three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain...In case of the worst that can happen, I shall still love you."

"I am at the diligent use of my faculties here, I do not pass a day without sprawling some blank verse or tagging some rhymes; and here I must confess, that (since I am on that subject) I love you the more in that I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else. I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel."

"You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour - for what is in the world? I say you cannot conceive; it is impossible you should look with such eyes upon me as I have upon you: it cannot be. Forgive me if I wander a little this evening, for I have been all day emply'd in a very abstract Poem and I am deeply in love with you - two things which must excuse me. "

"You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish? My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known the more have I lov'd. In ever way - But for Love! Can I help it? You are always new...Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you: how much more deeply then must I feel for you knowing you love me. My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it. I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment - upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate me whole senses."

"I wish you to see how unhappy I am for love of you, and endeavour as much as I can entice you to give up your whole heart to me whose whole existence hangs upon you. You could not step or move an eyelid but it would shoot to my heart - I am greedy of you. Do not think of anything but me. Do not live as if I was not existing. Do not forget me."

"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...You are to me an object intensely desirable - the air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy."

"I long to believe in immortality. I shall never be able to bid you an entire farewell. If I am destined to be happy with you here - how short is the longest Life. I wish to believe in immortality - I wish to live with you for ever...Let me be but certain that you are mine heart and soul, and I could die more happily than I could otherwise live...My love to you is true as truth's simplicity and simpler than the infancy of truth."

I adore John Keats.