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Letters
                                    
The Old Flea-Pit (1987).
                                        
                                        Letter to I.P. Chekhov (October 2, 1897) 
Letters
                                    
                                
                                    “Anytime or only for a while
Don't worry
Make a wish
I'll be there to see your smile.”
                                
                                
                                
                                
                            
                                        
                                        You'll Never Be Alone 
Freak of Nature (2001)
                                    
                                        
                                        Colin Wills, "'This will be a big change in my life .. politics is now less important' says new dad Gordon Brown", Sunday Mirror, 30 December, 2001, p. 4. 
Press conference on the birth of his first daughter, Jennifer Jane Brown, 29 December 2001; she died nine days later. 
Chancellor of the Exchequer
                                    
                                        
                                        Original: Lei ha quella sensualità innata che cattura lo sguardo e non ti fa pensare ad altro, lei ha quel sorriso che la rende unica al mondo. È bello vedere la propria donna splendere di luce e vitalità, quindi fai in modo che la sua priorità sia sempre la felicità. 
Source: prevale.net
                                    
                                        
                                        (8th February 1823) Medallion Wafers: Hercules and Iole 
22nd February 1823) Leander and Hero see The Vow of the Peacock (1835 
1st March 1823) An Old Man over the Body of his Son see The Vow of the Peacock (1835 
The London Literary Gazette, 1823
                                    
                                        
                                        The Inferno (1917), Ch. XVI 
Context: The woman from the depths of her rags, a waif, a martyr — smiled. She must have a divine heart to be so tired and yet smile. She loved the sky, the light, which the unformed little being would love some day. She loved the chilly dawn, the sultry noontime, the dreamy evening. The child would grow up, a saviour, to give life to everything again. Starting at the dark bottom he would ascend the ladder and begin life over again, life, the only paradise there is, the bouquet of nature. He would make beauty beautiful. He would make eternity over again with his voice and his song. And clasping the new-born infant close, she looked at all the sunlight she had given the world. Her arms quivered like wings. She dreamed in words of fondling. She fascinated all the passersby that looked at her. And the setting sun bathed her neck and head in a rosy reflection. She was like a great rose that opens its heart to the whole world.
                                    
 
                            
                        
                        
                         
                            
                        
                        
                         
                            
                        
                        
                         
                            
                        
                        
                        