letter 176, January 25 1840:
This morning I received your letters from Pesth (please no more recommandirt letters) in which you detailed what you term household accounts. I was sadly moved by all that. The misfortune of only being your mistress and not your wife was rammed home to me as it had never been before, when I think that I have to stay far away from you on such days, such lovely and splendid days, my dear and great Franz, days of noble pride which You truly deserve!
What you say to me about permission to be unfaithful (in this connection I was posing a question, to which you didn’t reply, as is your wont) is full of heart and fills me with respect for you, although this way of feeling will always remain incomprehensible to me. It is as impossible for me to conceive as that pigs may fly, and I can only allow of it as an inexplicable fact. The final word in your letter Truth is useless. I swear by our children that even a white lie has become impossible for me with you. I hasten to rid myself of all my pent-up secrets and no confessor would ever have heard such a full and true confession. If I do not write to you, it is simply because I do not know if it would not be better to talk. What is certain is that my love, my veneration for you does nothing but increase and that your word ever and always will be the sole regulator of my actions.

MARIE：I use apparition because I can find no other word to describe the sensation aroused in me by the most extraordinary person I had ever seen. He was tall and extremely thin. His face was pale and his large sea-green eyes shone like a wave when the sunlight catches it. His expression bore the marks of suffering. He moved indecisively and seemed to glide across the room in a distraught way, like a phantom for whom the hour when it must return to the darkness is about to sound. Franz spoke with vivacity and with an originality that awoke a whole world slumbering in me. The voice of the young enchanter opened out before me a whole infinity, into which my thoughts were plunged and lost. Between us there was something at once very young and very serious, at once very profound and very serious.

我不知道我是怎么了，突然对作曲家的生活超级感兴趣……做完李斯特可能还要做帕格尼尼，肖邦，贝多芬，莫扎特等等，我要做一个系列。先囤上，明天再录音。

结婚了私奔找真爱还结什么婚..

Liszt: How ardent, how glowing on my lips is your last kiss! Marie, Marie, let me repeat that name a thousand times. It lives within me, burns me and threatens to consume me. I am not writing you; I am with you. Oh for an eternity in your arms. There is heaven and hell, and everything else, inside you, yes, inside you. Let me be wild and crazy. I am beyond help.

Impromptu
GEORGE SAND: I am leaving Paris. Can’t fail to notice I am pursuing you. I’m in love with you. I don’t know you at all, but I know this: you are great, you’ve made a single instrument speak the language of God, and I want to learn it from your lips, you see. Anyway you......you don’t want me and it’s becoming complicated like everything between two people. It seems to me a pity because it could’ve been——
FREDRIC CHOPIN: I am begging you to give up. I know that you are in need with your children and your mother’s funeral and everything, so why don’t you take this then you can call off the best. I know you have sworn to seduce me——
GEORGE SAND: That’s disgusting! Who told you that? Marie D’agoult! Alright, once I wrote a letter and asked her to deliver it, I found out she signed her own name to it! Surely you realized she wants you for herself. Don’t worry, I am going! She’s right, we are not suited, I’m not full of virtues and noble qualities. I love, that is all. But I love strongly, exclusively, steadfastly.

July 6th, in the morning
My angel, my all, my very self ... Why this profound sorrow, when necessity speaks -- can our love endure without sacrifices, without our demanding everything from one another; can you alter the fact that you are not wholly mine, that I am not wholly yours? ...
Monday evening, July 6th
... Oh, where I am, you are with me -- I will see to it that you and I, that I can live with you. What a life!!!! ... However much you love me -- my love for you is even greater ... Dear God! -- so near! so far! Is not our love truly founded in heaven -- and, what is more, as strongly cemented as the firmament of heaven? --
Good morning, on July 7th
Even when I am in bed, my thoughts rush to you, my eternally beloved, now and then joyfully, then again sadly, waiting to know whether Fate will hear our prayer -- To face life I must live altogether with you or never see you. Yes, I am resolved to be a wanderer abroad until I can fly to your arms and say that I have found my true home with you and enfolded in your arms can let my soul be wafted to the realm of blessed spirits -- alas, unfortunately it must be so -- You will become composed, the more so as you know that I am faithful to you; no other woman can ever possess my heart -- never -- never -- Oh God, why must one be separated from her who is so dear. Yet my life in V{ienna} at present is a miserable life -- Your love has made me both the happiest and the unhappiest of mortals -- At my age, I now need stability and regularity in my life -- can this coexist with our relationship? ... Be calm; for only by calmly considering our lives can we achieve our purpose to live together -- Be calm -- love me -- Today -- yesterday -- what tearful longing for you -- you -- my life -- my all -- all good wishes to you -- Oh, do continue to love me -- never misjudge your lover's most faithful heart. ever yours
ever mine
ever ours

The English Patient
CATHERINE: My darling. I’m waiting for you. How long is the day in the dark? Or a week? The fire is gone, and I’m horribly cold. I really should drag myself outside but then there’d be the sun. I’m afraid I waste the light on the paintings, not writing these words. We die. We die rich with lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we’ve entered and swum up like rivers. Fears we’ve hidden in – like this wretched cave. I want all this marked on my body. Where the real countries are. Not boundaries drawn on maps with the names of powerful men. I know you’ll come carry me out to the Palace of Winds. That’s what I’ve wanted: to walk in such a place with you. With friends, on an earth without maps. The lamp has gone out and I’m writing in the darkness.