gri_2003_m_46_b01_f09_048
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.057
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.04
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65310010 - not-logged-in-4cf998877b1a4147ec8f
- WINNER - 65314805 - not-logged-in-ba0f9b6b2c0dd4acd414
- 65325805 - yibet
- 65329336 - hoskinml
- 65349559 - hallkr
- 65350326 - not-logged-in-c9b2c93efc284b846cb0
65310010 - not-logged-in-4cf998877b1a4147ec8f
11, Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond &c. postmark was posted outside Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouses provided a kind of claustrophobic summer-refuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is nice Greek revival temple, there, dedicated to your William, as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helmet metopes. This letter, however must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much at a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Antal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest- writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your letter more than the skin of the Lion of Nemea. Thank you so much for your industry and love. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks to our respective postmen. What a pity we were not corresponding at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the post office too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profiting from Klingender. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been disquieting delays in its execution. Perhaps, one day, following on your charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, everything tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should seem my 'fete-al' trousers. My dress lately had been slightly restrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good colour and still nice, and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Boothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap you with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and the news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Laurence
WINNER - 65314805 - not-logged-in-ba0f9b6b2c0dd4acd414
11, Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond & c. postmark was posted outside Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouses provided a kind of claustrophobic summer refuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is a nice Greek revival temple, there, dedicated to your William , as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helmet metopes. This letter, however, must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much as a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Antal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest - writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your letter more than the skin of the Lion of Nemea. Thank you so much for your industry and love. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks to you respective postmen. What a pity we were not corresponding at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the postoffice too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profiting from Klinggender. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been disquieting delays in its execution. Perhaps, one day, following on you charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, everything tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should see my 'fete'-al' trousers. My dress lately had been slightly restrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good color and still nice and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Booothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap you with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Lawrence
65325805 - yibet
11, Mansel Road, Wimbledon.19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond &c. postmark was posted outside Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouse provided a kind of claustrophobic summer-refuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is a nice Greek revival temple, there, dedicated to your William, as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helmet metopes. This letter, however, must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and the archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much as a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Antal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest - writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your letter more than the skin of the Lion of Nemea. Thank you so much for your industry and love. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks to our respective postmen. What a pity we were not corresponding at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the postoffice too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profitting from Klingerlder. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been disquieting delays in its execution. Perhaps, one day, following on your charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, everything tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should see my 'fete-al' trousers. My dress lately had been slightly restrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good color and still nice and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Boothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap you with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and the news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Lawrence
65329336 - hoskinml
11, Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond &c. postmark was posted out-side Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouses provided a kind of claustrophobic summer-re-fuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is a nice Greek revival temple, there, dedi-cated to your William, as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helmet metopes. This letter, however, must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and the archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much at a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Antal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest - writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your let-ter more than the skin of the lion of Nemea. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks to our respective postmen. What a pity we were not corresponding at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the postoffice too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profitting from Klingender. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been disquieting delays in its execution. Perhaps, one day, following on your charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, every thing tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should see my 'fete-al' trousers. My dress lately had been slightly retrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good color and still nice and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Boothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap you with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and the news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Lawrence
65349559 - hallkr
11, Mansel Road, Wimbledon.19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond c. postmark was posted out-side Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouses provided a kind of claustrophobic summer-re-fuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is a nice Greek revival temple, there, dedicated to your William, as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helment metopes. This letter, however, must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and the archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much as a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Anatal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest - writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your let-ter more than the skin of the Lion of Nemea. Thank you so much for your industry and love. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks to our respective postmen. What a pity we were not correspending at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the postoffice too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profiting from Klingender. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been so disquieting delays in its execution. Perhaps, on day, following on your charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, everything tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should see my "fete-a;" trousers. My dress lately had been slightly restrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good color and still nice and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Boothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and the news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Lawrence
65350326 - not-logged-in-c9b2c93efc284b846cb0
11, Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
19th October, 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
The letter with the Richmond &c. postmark was posted outside Kew. Though the gardens were overpoweringly autumnal the greenhouses provided a kind of claustrophobic summer-refuge. Queen Mary was there in the afternoon also and she went into the pagoda - something I have never been able to do, alas. I should like to see the interior of that rococo phallus. There is such a nice Greek revival temple, there, dedicated to your William, as well as the one to Bellona which has shield and helmet metopes. This letter, however, must be posted in Wimbledon, Tumbrildon I think is a better name. I learn that there is an Angelica Kauffman staircase here so must arrange to see it. Today I am going to St Bartholomew's to see the librarian and the archivist as well as the paintings - your appreciation of which encouraged me very much at a time when I had been a bit dubious about Hogarth. I am flattered by your remarks on my book and Antal's. Thank you very much for your belief in me.
Dearest - writing letters at ten past eight in the morning! I shall do the same for you and then you will never doubt my love. How could you after such proof: I treasure your letter more than the skin of the Dion of Nemea. Thank you so much for your industry and love. I am sure between us we will give sore shoulders and torn sacks of our respective postmen. What a pity we were not corresponding at Castle Hedingham for the postman there, I think he was the postoffice too, was a dwarf who just reached the handlebars of his own bicycle. A certain pleasure there is in the thought of such a one being the messenger of love. (I should wear my Beccafumi fungus button hole for every delivery.)
So glad that you are profitting from Kingender. Glad, too, that it is your intention to get on with our painting - there have been so disquieting dleays in its execution. Perhaps, one day, following on your charming remarks about me in a fitting jacket, you will paint me in a kind of Devis full-length, everything tight yet fairly graceful. Speaking of tight clothes - you should see my fete-al trousers. My dress lightly has been slightly restrained but I am off again. Mother is dismayed. Father, usually indifferent and unconscious, pale. They are a good color and still nice and long but I have to wriggle my legs into them. I almost have that Sir Boothby Bart look.
I love you, and I should adore to heap you with baskets of slave bangles and marshmallow, but I can only offer this letter and the news of my love which can never stop. I love you.
Lawrence