Frederick Wentworth's Love Letter to Anne Elliot

I was talking to a colleague today about embracing e-mail as a faster form of communication.
Many of the educators I work with are much older than myself, there are some who have been in teaching for longer than I have been alive. As experienced as they are, as brilliant at their work as they are, these educators seem to have a serious phobia to some of the advancements of technology. While I have said that technology has had some really regressive effects on children, I do believe that some have had very good uses. And in the professional world, no matter what kind of profession you are in, it is almost obligatory for a person to be contactable by e-mail.

Having said all of that, I am particularly fond of hand-written letters.
And I leave you with my absolute favourite letter....Frederick Wentworth's love letter to Anne Elliot

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."