Valentine Letters and Poems

“I am lost in love’s labyrinth”
Philip Stanhope to Lady Russell 1661

“I am writing to you, my pen dipped in the pine scent of this afternoon, so that you can breathe the words in and find the image I have for you in my heart. The letters swim in Adriatic turquoise and clear midsummer skies. There are islands between the paragraphs. Islands of green trees frothing out from bleached rock. Further still await the satin mountains. Feel the caress of their mystical invitation. I am writing to you, while fish leap between the commas and full stops; iridescent and curved like miniature sunbeams. I hold a stone, a warm pulse in my hand that contains the sun. It is time itself, your time, my time. I parcel it to you, inscribed with memories that flow into deeper hues with each breath.”
-Stephanie June Sorrell 1956

"You have absorbed me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.” -John Keats to Fanny Brawne 1819


“For two days, I have been asking myself every moment if such happiness is not a dream. It seems to me that what I feel is not of earth. I cannot yet comprehend this cloudless heaven.” -Victor Hugo to Adele Foucher 1822

“You can’t come into the room without my feeling all over me a ripple of flame, and if, wherever you touch me, a heart beats under your touch, and if, when you hold me and I don’t speak, it’s because all the words in me seem to have become throbbing pulses.”
-Edith Wharton to W. Morton Fullerton 1908


“Strephen kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephen's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.”
-Sara Teasdale

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old grief’s, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Celebrate life. Make time for chocolate.