Nabokov's letters to his wife, Vera. Quite a charming love story and about the art of letter writing.
http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/12/03/letters-to-vera-vladimir-nabokov/
I won’t hide it: I’m so unused to being — well, understood, perhaps, — so unused to it, that in the very first minutes of our meeting I thought: this is a joke… But then… And there are things that are hard to talk about — you’ll rub off their marvelous pollen at the touch of a word… You are lovely…
[…]
Yes, I need you, my fairy-tale. Because you are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought — and about how, when I went out to work today and looked a tall sunflower in the face, it smiled at me with all of its seeds.
[…]
See you soon my strange joy, my tender night.
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