“You will not believe what a longing for you possesses me. The chief cause of this is my love and then we have not grown used to be apart. So it comes to pass that I lie awake a great part of the night, thinking of you; and that by day, when the hours return at which I was wont to visit you, my feet take me, as it is so truly said, to your chamber, but not finding you there I return, sick and sad at heart, like an excluded lover.” Pliny the Younger once wrote these lines to his wife, Calpurnia, in a letter. Back then, love traveled on parchment, carried the scent of ink and longing. Today, letters are considered old-fashioned.
We have emails, text messages, quick likes, and fleeting hearts…
But fewer love words. A modern love letter doesn’t arrive with the rustle of paper or the fragrance of rose petals.
And let’s be honest—an email can’t possibly smell like anything but Wi-Fi.

“My heart and I surrender themselves into your hands, and we supplicate to be commended to your good graces, and that by absence your affection may not diminish to us, for that would be to augment our pain, which would be a great pity, since absence gives enough, and more than I ever thought could be felt.” While I can’t say I admire Henry VIII as a man, I must admit—when he was in love with Anne Boleyn, he penned some surprisingly romantic letters.

“You may assure yourself I value you according to your merit which is saying that you have my heart by all the ties of beauty, virtue, good nature and friendship.” In a letter to his wife Mary Scurlock, the 18th-century politician and essayist Richard Steele wrote these timeless words back in 1710.

While wandering through the charming streets of Den Haag, I stumbled upon a cozy little bookstore—the kind that quietly calls your name, just like shoe stores tend to do when you’re “just browsing.” Naturally, I followed the pull and slipped inside, heading straight for the English section.

There, tucked between poetry and history, I discovered a gem: Love Letters of Great Men and Women—a treasure chest of timeless words whispered across centuries. A dreamy find for a sentimental soul like me. Each letter felt like a stolen page from someone’s heart.

Den Haag has this gentle habit of gifting me something lovely every time I visit. This time, it handed me handwritten love from the past, wrapped in ink and longing.

If you ever find yourself wandering through the streets of The Hague,  make a stop at Van Stockum Bookstore, tucked away at Spui 40, 2511 BS—just around the corner from the historic Binnenhof. You can also browse their shelves virtually and order online from their website, which makes literary adventures just a click away.

Still, I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. Isn’t it a bit sad that we write fewer and fewer beautiful words on beautifully scented paper? Are we too busy? Have we run out of good words? Or have we simply gone too modern?