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Oh, the ecstacy of that hour! The ecstacy of our first kiss! From that time on it was "mon petit mari" and "ma petite femme." The greatest joy in life for me, for us, was to sit together, holding each other's hands, and repeating from time to time, "J' t'aime tant, j' t'aime tant." Now and then we would vary it with a fugue upon our names "Hélène!" "Paul!" He laughed.
That after the eloquent declarations I had composed overnight! 'And she? 'She answered quite simply, "Et moi, je t'aime tant, aussi." And then she began to cry. And when I asked her what she was crying for, she explained that I oughtn't to have left her in doubt for so long; she had been so unhappy from fear that I didn't "love her so." She was quite unfemininely frank, you see.
He glanced at Maria, but seeing the beads ever slipping through her fingers he would not intrude. A la claire fontaine M'en allant promener, J'ai trouve l'eau si belle Que je m'y suis baigne ... Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, Jamais je ne t'oublierai... Words and tune alike haunting; the unaffected sadness of the refrain lingering in the ear, a song that well may find its way to any heart.
And place your palms against a lover's palms and kiss him with generosity, ma petite. I am not a man; I am a shadow." Marie slipped her arms around him and, standing on tiptoe, put her lips against his. "Je t'aime," she said simply. His eyes deepened. There flashed into them the old, mad humour, the old vitality, the old passion for beauty.
Gretchen remains in simple amaze that such a fine gentleman as Faust should find anything to admire in her, even after she has received and returned his first kiss; but Marguerite is exalted, transfigured by the new feelings surging within her. Il m'aime! quel trouble en mon coeur! L'oiseau chante! Le vent murmure! Toutes les voix de la nature Semblent me repeter en choeur: Il t'aime!
Je ne connais pas le langage des fleurs, mais si celle-ci ne te dit pas que je t'aime beaucoup beaucoup elle interprete bien mal mes sentiments. "J'ai lu un peu du livre de Max Mueller sur l'etude comparative des langues. C'est excessivement curieux.
Antoine sang it with a fond monotony: "Would that each rose were growing Upon the rose-tree gay, And that the fatal rose-tree Deep in the ocean lay. 'I ya longtemps que je t'aime Jamais je ne t'oublierai." Angelique's heart grew suddenly heavy. From the rose-tree of the song her mind fled and shivered before the leafless rose-tree by the mine; and her old dread came back.
But the terrible sobs went on, and fearfully he caught her closer, straining her to him convulsively, raining kisses on her shining hair. "Diane, Diane," he whispered imploringly, falling back into the soft French that seemed so much more natural. "Mon amour, ma bien-aimee. Ne pleures pas, je t'en prie. Je t'aime, je t'adore. Tu resteras pres de moi, tout a moi."
You could write peut-être. Je t'aime." "Yours, "SHEILA." Nancy read this letter, in the quaint childish hand, with a great wave of dumb sickness creeping over her a devastating, disintegrating nausea of soul and body.
"Brigit je t'aime, je t'aime. I am infamous, I am a monster, a father to be execrated by all honest men and women, but I love you!" He laid the violin down in a chair and came to her. "Et toi?" he asked hoarsely. The moment had come when she must think, she told herself, but her brain refused to work. The only thing that mattered was that he should stay.
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