Famous Love Letters.

Nothing's more personal than a love letter. And here are a few of Purple Picket Fence's favorites from our most beloved films:

A KNIGHT'S TALE, WILLIAM WRITES TO JOCELYN
My dearest Jocelyn:

It is strange to think, I have not seen you in a month.
I have seen the new moon, but not you.
I have seen sunsets and sunrises, but nothing of your beautiful face.
The pieces of my broken heart can pass through the eye of a needle.
I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter.
Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has sent me to.
I next compete in Paris.I'll find it empty and cold if you're not there.
Hope guides me.It gets me through the day and especially the night.The hope that after you leave my sight it will not be the last time I look upon you.
With all the love that I possess... I remain yours...
The knight of your heart.

William

THE NOTEBOOK, NOAH WRITES TO ALLIE:
My Dearest Allie.

I couldn't sleep last night because I know that it's over between us. I'm not bitter anymore, because I know that what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I'll smile at you with joy and remember how we spent the summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever.

I love you. I'll be seeing you.

Noah

National Poetry Month.

In honor of National Poetry Month, here are some love poems:

SHAKESPEARE, SONNET 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

WALT WHITMAN, TO A STRANGER
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body
mine
only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard,
breast,
hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Love Letters From Great Men.

Looking for a great book? Check out John C. Kirkland, "Love Letters From Great Men," as featured in Sex and the City. It's no Purple Picket Fence, but it'll do.