John Keats to Fanny Brawne

Your Letter gave me more delight than any thing in the world but yourself could do 

Write me ever so few lines and tell me you will never for ever be less kind to me than yesterday - You dazzled me - There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate

 I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further.  You have absorb'd me

You are always new

if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures

Even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you

I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving

There may be a sort of love for which, without the least sneer at it, I have the highest respect and can admire it in others: but it has not the richness, the bloom, the full form, the enchantment of love after my own heart

Do not I see a heart naturally furnish'd with wings imprison itself with me?

 "If I should die," said I to myself, "I have left no immortal work behind me - nothing to make my friends proud of my memory 

the very first week I knew you I wrote myself your vassal; but burnt the Letter as the very next time I saw you I thought you manifested some dislike to me

That Thrush is a fine fellow.  I hope he was fortunate in his choice this year.

I love you the more in that I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else

You absorb me in spite of myself - you alone

When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses

I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you

Meantime you must write to me as I will every week for your letters keep me alive. My sweet Girl I cannot speak my love for you.

 My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you

I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you the more have I lov'd.

how horrid was the chance of slipping into the ground instead of into your arms

the morning is always restorative

I should as soon think of choosing to die as to part from you

I fear I am too prudent for a dying kind of Lover

I have loved the principle of beauty in all things

I have lick'd it but it remains very purplue [for purple].  I did not know whether to say purple or blue, so in the mixture of the thought wrote purplue which may be an excellent name for a colour made up of those two

love me for ever
JK