Gustave Flaubert: Love Letters | RESO
Gustav Floberi met for the first time Loise Colet in 1846, when she was in the studio of sculptor pose Jems Pradier, on the Quai Voltaire. It seems that between them had fired a spark. A day after the meeting, Floberi and Colet, made a long walk in the "Bois de Boulogne". george westinghouse And then, a dinner at her apartment, where he spent the night. It was a special night for them, a night that tied tightly to the love connection that revealed to fans lërsisë years later a series of letters that appear unusual world of a great writer. Flaubert wrote letters to Louise Colet memories of a "love it impossible to live", overwhelmed by the brightly feelings of love and passion for art writer writing. george westinghouse Shkrimatri tells his girlfriend love heart concerns, and shivering confesses secrets of the soul that loves, the difficulties he encounters during the writing of "Lady Bovari", suffering and sometimes disappointments of friendships, the spirit of the time and life in general . In his correspondence Surfaces author, described his experiences being internal rather than external appearance and public announcements. Also between rows writer finds reason to write about work, travel, projects, friendships, concepts of literature, art difficulties of writing, and gives us portraits of contemporary shkrimatrëve with. His letters are a great asset, the amount of thought that they express, spontaneity and style, make this correspondence one of the most beautiful literature. Flaubert, who did not believe in sex literature, thought that patience and persistence paid enough to work long and hard the writer. In this way he eschewed george westinghouse tradition inspired shkrimatrit. "Let us beware that përndezjeje called inspiration, george westinghouse which becomes more human concern as much muscular strength ..." Flaubert writes in one of his letters, which are summarized in a book, bring in English with the title "Love Letters" with Adriana Koxhaj translation, published by the publishing house "idear". From him we extract these three letters, which is publishing the literary pages "Milosaos" with permission of its publisher Arian Leka.
Tuesday evening, midnight, 4 August 1846. A day and a half ago we were still together; Yesterday, as now, hold her in my arms ... do you remember? How far it seems! Tonight george westinghouse the night is warm and soft; down my window and the large oak fërgëllon wind, I lift your head and look over the river Monday to contemplated. Now that you write your little slippers have here, in the eyes, the gaze. I locked myself quite lonely and newly restored george westinghouse donated everything from you; I have your letters embroidered on the bag will be closed once again read my letter. Would not cut off from my sheets; they are trimmed out with black ink; nothing sad not to come, from me! In addition I would like the joy of the resurrection and the unabashed happiness and bitterly to the fence, as a ransom for all that you have forgiven your noble love. Fear not look cold, icy, selfish, and only God knows what happens in the moment. As memories! and much delight! And how beautiful they were our walks with two hires, especially the latter under the lightning! Brings to mind the color of trees, illuminated by headlights, and fluctuations wheelchair; we were alone, happy. SODIS your appearance through the night; and even though you see the dark; ndritnin eyes across george westinghouse the face. I think I write bad; You will read cold; s'po write anything you want to say. Try my phrases george westinghouse as sighs; to understand he should george westinghouse fill the gap that separates one from the other; will do it or not? Would ëndërritësh after each letter, then any sign writing? Like me, looking at your slippers brown visualize the movements of your feet to wear them ... the scarf is still in [...] My mother george westinghouse waited for the station; she wept to see me coming. You cry to see me leaving. Ah, you can not leave a place without causing tears in both directions. How grotesque dark. Here again I found the green lawns, trees and water that gurron high as when I left. I found my books open where I left; nothing has changed. We are ashamed of nature; Her composure humble our pride. After all, let's not even think about the future, for us both, nor anything else. To think, means to suffer. Let us take the wind of our heart, as long as it will raise the sails; george westinghouse let us have to push as far as they desire and obstacles ... great job! We shall see ... [...] As soon as we parted, as he was leaving, my opinion to you flying. He soon run right away that the smoke of the locomotive that leave behind george westinghouse (compared all the passion, forgive that I write so little). Come on now, soon a kiss, as you know, from what Aristotle says, another, kiss one another, then at the throat, where like me,
Gustav Floberi met for the first time Loise Colet in 1846, when she was in the studio of sculptor pose Jems Pradier, on the Quai Voltaire. It seems that between them had fired a spark. A day after the meeting, Floberi and Colet, made a long walk in the "Bois de Boulogne". george westinghouse And then, a dinner at her apartment, where he spent the night. It was a special night for them, a night that tied tightly to the love connection that revealed to fans lërsisë years later a series of letters that appear unusual world of a great writer. Flaubert wrote letters to Louise Colet memories of a "love it impossible to live", overwhelmed by the brightly feelings of love and passion for art writer writing. george westinghouse Shkrimatri tells his girlfriend love heart concerns, and shivering confesses secrets of the soul that loves, the difficulties he encounters during the writing of "Lady Bovari", suffering and sometimes disappointments of friendships, the spirit of the time and life in general . In his correspondence Surfaces author, described his experiences being internal rather than external appearance and public announcements. Also between rows writer finds reason to write about work, travel, projects, friendships, concepts of literature, art difficulties of writing, and gives us portraits of contemporary shkrimatrëve with. His letters are a great asset, the amount of thought that they express, spontaneity and style, make this correspondence one of the most beautiful literature. Flaubert, who did not believe in sex literature, thought that patience and persistence paid enough to work long and hard the writer. In this way he eschewed george westinghouse tradition inspired shkrimatrit. "Let us beware that përndezjeje called inspiration, george westinghouse which becomes more human concern as much muscular strength ..." Flaubert writes in one of his letters, which are summarized in a book, bring in English with the title "Love Letters" with Adriana Koxhaj translation, published by the publishing house "idear". From him we extract these three letters, which is publishing the literary pages "Milosaos" with permission of its publisher Arian Leka.
Tuesday evening, midnight, 4 August 1846. A day and a half ago we were still together; Yesterday, as now, hold her in my arms ... do you remember? How far it seems! Tonight george westinghouse the night is warm and soft; down my window and the large oak fërgëllon wind, I lift your head and look over the river Monday to contemplated. Now that you write your little slippers have here, in the eyes, the gaze. I locked myself quite lonely and newly restored george westinghouse donated everything from you; I have your letters embroidered on the bag will be closed once again read my letter. Would not cut off from my sheets; they are trimmed out with black ink; nothing sad not to come, from me! In addition I would like the joy of the resurrection and the unabashed happiness and bitterly to the fence, as a ransom for all that you have forgiven your noble love. Fear not look cold, icy, selfish, and only God knows what happens in the moment. As memories! and much delight! And how beautiful they were our walks with two hires, especially the latter under the lightning! Brings to mind the color of trees, illuminated by headlights, and fluctuations wheelchair; we were alone, happy. SODIS your appearance through the night; and even though you see the dark; ndritnin eyes across george westinghouse the face. I think I write bad; You will read cold; s'po write anything you want to say. Try my phrases george westinghouse as sighs; to understand he should george westinghouse fill the gap that separates one from the other; will do it or not? Would ëndërritësh after each letter, then any sign writing? Like me, looking at your slippers brown visualize the movements of your feet to wear them ... the scarf is still in [...] My mother george westinghouse waited for the station; she wept to see me coming. You cry to see me leaving. Ah, you can not leave a place without causing tears in both directions. How grotesque dark. Here again I found the green lawns, trees and water that gurron high as when I left. I found my books open where I left; nothing has changed. We are ashamed of nature; Her composure humble our pride. After all, let's not even think about the future, for us both, nor anything else. To think, means to suffer. Let us take the wind of our heart, as long as it will raise the sails; george westinghouse let us have to push as far as they desire and obstacles ... great job! We shall see ... [...] As soon as we parted, as he was leaving, my opinion to you flying. He soon run right away that the smoke of the locomotive that leave behind george westinghouse (compared all the passion, forgive that I write so little). Come on now, soon a kiss, as you know, from what Aristotle says, another, kiss one another, then at the throat, where like me,
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