'WHAT! You here, old man? You in such a place? You the ambrosia eater, the drinker of quintessences! This is really a surprise.'

-C.Baudelaire

'Amor condusse noi ad una morte.'

-D.Alighieri

----

RR.

I write you this in the midst of a bliss I have not the words for; I myself am an addlepated man and why make matters worse to make a worse man? The warmth with which you brush the pages you have sent my dear is indeed warm and I can feel the heat from the pen as you hold it within your palm which leads me to believe there might be hope after all, and to feel outdated and the tender age of twenty, my my, it saddens me that you feel such and with words I wish I could comfort you but I simply cannot, yet to put a smile upon your supple cheeks, I will try, (for ours is a tragic age so we refuse to take it tragically) and in the midst of all this chaos I find myself most comfortable in the words of those before me and I no longer feel alone, but to feel vulnerable again, what I would not do! I do not know, but such a feeling has been lost within me and how I would love to meet it again within the cool breeze on a lonely summer night, for is there nothing more beautiful than the song of a woman or a man who needs to be needed?

----