[Letter from Laurence Olivier to Vivien Leigh, in 1939]

I do not think there is a solitary second when my mind is not completely buried in you. You are really on my brain – I suppose if you happened to represent something dangerous I should be locked up – but no it’s not quite like that. I am not always thinking sweetly of you. I am thinking angrily or indignantly or sulkily, quite often, but I am never not thinking of you. More often than not I am just worried about you, concerned and distressed about my baby lamb being tired or unhappy – and of course often it is with mad, mad passion and sometimes it is naughty, sometimes, only sometimes is it dirty or even sadistic…You are all over me, in sorrow or in joy, all of the time – O yes in drunkenness too, in conversation, in work, with every breath and heart-beat.

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