I love you, my poor angel, as you well know, and yet you want to have it in writing. You are right. We must love each other, and then tell each other, and then write it down, and then kiss each other on the mouth, on the eyes, and elsewhere. You are my beloved Juliette.
When I am sad, I think of you as one thinks of the sun in winter; and when I am happy, I think of you as one thinks of shade on a sunny day. As you can see, Juliette, I love you with all my soul.
You look as young as a child, and as meek as a mother, and so I enfold you in all those different forms of love at once.
Kiss me, beautiful Juju!Victor Hugo
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