Nora Barnacle , James Joyce, 1931
“I always think of you.
When I go to bed at night is a kind of torture for me.
Do not write on this page, what fills my mind,
the real madness of desire.
I see you in a hundred poses, shameful, virginal, languid, immodest.
Give yourself entirely, all, when we meet again.
Everything that is hidden to others, you have to give it to me.
I want to be Lord of your body and your spirit.”
excerpt from a letter Joyce sent to Nora Barnacle
( muse and wife of author James Joyce)