DIY History | Transcribe | World War I Diaries and Letters | Conger Reynolds correspondence, January 1918 | 1918-01-16 Conger Reynolds to Daphne Reynolds Page 2

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Conger Reynolds correspondence, January 1918

1918-01-16 Conger Reynolds to Daphne Reynolds Page 2

Without lack of the fine qualities that men love as the distinct characteristics of woman-kind you have the sympathetic understanding and genuineness to be the whole-souled mate of an honest-to-God man. You are the personification of the sort of thing that breathes eternal in art and poetry and music. You inspire in me ambition to do the things that count in order that I may be worthy of your respect and love. You are the cause and the object of the most ardent and noblest passion that has stirred my heart and soul. 
And you are ma femme, my wife, my soul-mate. I think that will always be hard for me to comprehend, to surround mentally, in its full significance because it is so marvelous! It means so much more than everything else! I grope about trying to realize that it is reality and find that the limitations of human conception prevent my understanding the truth. I simply have to accept it through faith, as one does belief in God. Somehow I know that I'm the luckiest, happiest mortal alive. A miracle has happened to me that I am too mortal to understand. But I do know that it has made you mine. You are real. I love you with the best that is in my body and mind and heart and soul so fiercely that no other feeling counts in comparison. So I always shall. 
This separation is cruel. I think it intensifies the dream-like quality of our relation. If I could only have you with me, if I could take your hands in mine; if I could breathe the perfume of your hair; if I could feel the passionate warmth of your kisses -- my imagination would not search into the hazy realm out of which miracles come

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Without lack of the fine qualities that men love as the distinct characteristics of woman-kind you have the sympathetic understanding and genuineness to be the whole-souled mate of an honest-to-God man. You are the personification of the sort of thing that breathes eternal in art and poetry and music. You inspire in me ambition to do the things that count in order that I may be worthy of your respect and love. You are the cause and the object of the most ardent and noblest passion that has stirred my heart and soul. And you are ma femme, my wife, my soul-mate. I think that will always be hard for me to comprehend, to surround mentally, in its full significance because it is so marvelous! It means so much more than everything else! I grope about trying to realize that it is reality and find that the limitations of human conception prevent my understanding the truth. I simply have to accept it through faith, as one does belief in God. Somehow I know that I'm the luckiest, happiest mortal alive. A miracle has happened to me that I am too mortal to understand. But I do know that it has made you mine. You are real. I love you with the best that is in my body and mind and heart and soul so fiercely that no other feeling counts in comparison. So I always shall. This separation is cruel. I think it intensifies the dream-like quality of our relation. If I could only have you with me, if I could take your hands in mine; if I could breathe the perfume of your hair; if I could feel the passionate warmth of your kisses -- my imagination would not search into the hazy realm out of which miracles come