The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink


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Love Letter

One of my favorite books is ‘Les Miserables’ by Victor Hugo and I read it when I was 16 and I love the romance between Cosette and Marius and I really treasure the love letter that he gave her and I’ll post it here. To anyone who has’nt read the book yet hopefully, reading this letter will encourage you to do so..FYI: it was after reading this book and especially, the love letter, did I fall in love with love. Enjoy!

“The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being even to God, this is love

Love is the salutation of the angel to the stars.

How sad is the soul when it is sad from love!

What a void is the absence of the being who alone fills the world! Oh! how true it is that the beloved being becomes God! One would conceive that God would be jealous if the Father of all had not evidently made creation for the soul, and the soul for love!

A glimpse of a smile under a white crape hat with a lilac coronat is enough, for the soul to enter the palace of dreams.

God is behind all things, but all things hide God. Things are black, creatures are opaque. To love a being, is to render her* transparent.

Certain thoughts are prayers. These are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on it’s knees.

Separated lovers deceive absence by a thousand chimerical things which still have their reality. They are prevented from seeing eachother, they cannot write to eachother; they find a multitude of mysterious means of correspondence. They commission the song of birds, the perfume of flowers, the laughter of children, the light of the sun, the sighs of the wind, the beams of the stars, the whole creation. And why not? All the works of God were made to serve love. Love is powerful enough to charge all nature with its messages

O Spring! thou art a letter which I write to her.

The future belongs still more to the heart than to the mind. To love is the only thing which can occupy and fill up eternity The infinite requires the inexhaustible.

Love partakes of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is a divine spark, like it, it is incorruptible, indivisable, imperishable. It is a point of fire which is within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can limit and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burn even in the marrow of our bones, and we see it radiate even to the depths of the sky.

O love! adorations! light of two minds which comprehend each other, of two hearts which are interchanged, of two glances which interpenetrate! You will come to me, will


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