I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest--blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character--perfect concord is the result.
Read the novel Jane Eyre via Project Gutenberg.
I identify a lot with bookish Jane, but I can also be the madwoman in the attic. Thanks to the spouse for putting up with both. Happy anniversary.
3 comments:
Happy Anniversary. It seems like just yesterday I was AT your wedding. I remember the beautiful icon your mother made and the charming reception across the street. My one regret is accidentally leaving the lavender vase (a favor from the recption) in my hotel room. I still kick myself over that one!
I recall I ate some good oysters after your wedding. I do not recall anyone reading a novel. Nice little anniversary gift from the Pulitzer folks, huh?
Really, no one was reading a novel at the reception? Are you sure about that? Ha ha! Thanks for all the kind words, you all.
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