6 V O L U M E 1 , D O C U M E N T 1 6 f have this on your conscience, you little rascal, you, the little victor & the van- quished at the same time. If your difficult work is painful to you,[4] console yourself a little in that a loving heart is sympathetic with you, no matter where you are and what you are doing. But now I have to leave on the double, & I haven’t even done any studying yet. Fondest greetings from your most loving Albert Vol. 1, 16f. To Marie Winteler [Aarau,] Tuesday evening [11 February 1896][1] My Sweetheart, I am already in bed, tired & exhausted & yearning. But the thought of you, little darling child, gives me strength & comfort and gently transports me to the precious, glorious bliss of the soul that so sweetly unites us. Oh, darling, I thank you with my whole heart for your touching note, which moved me to tears. What a glorious gift of heaven tears are I would have never suspected that. What a joy to be able to think of you, beloved soul, and to know or even only dare to hope that you are also lovingly thinking of me! Everything, everything at home speaks to me so fondly of you, my dear everything that comes in contact with your dear hand, and the violin sings to me delightfully of you. Wherever I look, your beloved dark eyes gaze upon me so innocently..... Tomorrow, I will buy the Mozart songs and send them to you right away, my dear.[2] I want to write to you often because I know that it pleases you, my love, and because it is a joy, a necessity to me. But please don’t always answer me because it is not good for your dear, delicate nature, especially since you are already so stressed. I cherish the reason for not writing as highly as that for writing, my sweet darling. And the things you want to write me with your lovely little hand, my own heart tells me day and night. Take a lot of walks and dream sweetly at the piano & and be happy. How wonderfully Orion looks down on us today, so powerful and comforting. How lovely that you thought about it, my darling. There’s nothing new going on other than the fact that Mama[3] lost a tooth when biting on something! Yet what is old is so beautiful, so blissful, that it satisfies me so completely and is delightfully charming. Now, however, adieu, little Marie. Be happy, my love. See you soon. Your Albert
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