Sadnessorgladness，itallcomestomethroughyou。ThehopeofsuccessalwayscarriesmebacktothedayfollowingthatoneonwhichIsawyouforthefirsttime，whenmylifebecameonewithyoursastheearthturnstothelight。/Qualpianto/aretheseelevenyears，forthisisthe26thofDecember，theanniversaryofmyarrivalatyourvillaontheLakeofGeneva。ForelevenyearshaveIbeencryingtoyou，whileyoushinelikeastarsettoohighformantoreachit。
\"27th。
\"No，dearest，donotgotoMilan；stayatBelgirate。Milanterrifiesme。IdonotlikethatodiousMilanesefashionofchattingattheScalaeveryeveningwithadozenpersons，amongwhomitishardifnoonesayssomethingsweet。Tomesolitudeislikethelumpofamberinwhoseheartaninsectlivesforeverinunchangingbeauty。Thustheheartandsoulofawomanremainspureandunalteredintheformoftheirfirstyouth。Isitthe/Tedeschi/thatyouregret？
\"28th。
\"Isyourstatuenevertobefinished？Ishouldwishtohaveyouinmarble，inpainting，inminiature，ineverypossibleform，tobeguilemyimpatience。IstillamwaitingfortheviewofBelgiratefromthesouth，andthatofthebalcony；theseareallthatInowlack。Iamsoextremelybusythatto-dayIcanonlywriteyounothing——butthatnothingiseverything。WasitnotofnothingthatGodmadetheworld？Thatnothingisaword，God\'sword:Iloveyou!