𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙀𝙔'𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿𝘼 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎.
these are taken from the book/novel with the same title, triggers may be present, proceed with caution, feel free to adjust any you that you deem necessary.
if pain can purify the heart, mine will be pure.
a nymph of the woods such as you were.
my greatest pleasure was the enjoyment of a serene sky amidst these verdant woods.
i will never desert life until this last hope is torn from my bosom.
you are still, as you ever were, lovely, beautiful beyond expression.
it was a passion that had frown with his growth…
none knew of their love except their own two hearts.
i am in a strange state of mind.
i am alone—quite alone—in the world.
i know that i am about to die and i feel happy.
perhaps a history such as mine had better die with me.
i shall never see the snows of another winter.
i am too weak both in body and mind to resist the slightest impulse.
i must collect my thoughts.
i hope i have strength sufficient to fulfill it.
they were never separate and seldom admitted a third to their society.
i was born, and my mother died a few days after my birth.
when i leave this place do not expect to hear from me.
i must break all ties that at present exist.
i shall become a wanderer, a miserable outcast—alone! alone!
i ran wild about our park and the neighboring fields.
i wandered for ever about these lovely solitudes, gathering flower after flower.
when i looked round and found none to love; but i quickly dried my tears.
i found others highly interesting which i had before neglected as dull.
i never found courage to depart.
he/she/they will love me!
i can hardly prevent myself from hastening immediately to you.
i could not sleep but paced all night about my chamber.
i looked more like a spirit than a human maid.
i had so beloved a companion for my rambles.
is it not strange that grief should quickly follow so divine a happiness?
i had no idea that misery could arise from love.
i remember we had talked of future travels that we should undertake together—.
should give my poor heart life?
i will not dwell longer than I need on these disastrous circumstances.
but days of peaceful melancholy were of rare occurrence.
i, foolish and presumptuous wretch!
i entreat you and listen to me: do not turn away from me.
tell me, can i do nothing?
you well know that on the whole earth there is no sacrifice that i would not make.
you are indeed presumptuous, [name:optional], presumptuous and very rash.
am i the cause of your grief?
i demand, and most solemnly i demand if in any way i am the cause of your unhappiness.
do not urge me to your destruction.
speak that word; it will bring peace, not death.
we shall be happy; there will no longer be doubt.
why do you bring me out, and torture me, and tempt me, and kill me—
we shall love each other as before, and for ever.
my affection will soothe your sorrow.
you know not what you mean.
but your words i cannot bear.
but you only confirm my resolution to put an end to this state of doubt.
am i not the most miserable worm that crawls?
do i not embrace your knees, and you most cruelly repulse me?
i know it—i see it—you hate me!
you are my bane, my poison, my disgust!
perhaps i am changed in mien as the fallen archangel.
were not those the words you uttered?
i can no longer sustain myself; surely this is death that is coming.
let me lay my head near your heart; let me die in your arms!
come, come, the worst is past: no more grief, tears or despair..
i am chilled by the snows of winter!
from whom is this letter?
i have betrayed your confidence.
i am sure i should feel it even in my grave.
it is a strange link in my fate that without having seen you i should passionately love you.
i dwelt on your looks, your words, your motions, and drank in unmixed delight.
i must be more brief for night draws on apace and all my hours in this house are counted.
i should certainly have died if you had not hastened to me.
do i not look forward to a miserable future?
is not this a fearful curse that i labor under?
it is far better for your peace that you should be ignorant of my destination.
you will not do this, i know you will not.
you must forget me and all the evil that i have taught you.
the sound is the same as that which i heard in my dream.
do not mistake me; i never was really mad.
what is death? to see you no more?
i had fallen at once from bliss to misery.
we know not what all this wide world means; its strange mixture of good and evil.
do you think i sow my seed in the barren air, and have no end in what i do?
are you not young, and fair, and good?
if you can never be happy, can you never bestow happiness?
hope, and your wounds will be already half healed.
love is a delicate sprite and easily hurt by rough jealousy.
i feel death to be near at hand and i am calm.
janainaart
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
titsay
