Dearest Hamlet,

I am most glad I was able to provide you solace. I have tucked a poem into this letter for the next time you might need it. May its whimsical nature help lift your mind.

It is easier to confess to paper, to feel the inked words across the page, rather than to say such. But I feel a kinship with the Lady of Shalott. For as much as I fear her, I envy her. To feel something so deeply, to be pulled by such great currents away... I wonder what such depth of feeling would do. It intrigues me as much as her imprisonment terrifies me. I too often feel the gilded edge of that coin, the endless what if that drifts into the skies. The inked words charmed from the page into a butterfly. But what of true depth of emotion? How could I ever convey a story with as much depth as there is in Tennyson's words without having experienced it myself?

Shakespeare, I find it easy to believe, must have had some true passion to write such stories, to pull one in as he does. His words evoke the greatest feeling and emotion, from happiness to the greatest sorrow. Even madness as the Great King Lear fights against. It is as if the playwright felt the vastness of every emotion in his life.

Tell me though, if you have read his works, what rests above the rest? What brings your mind solace?

Yours,
Ophelia[/i]

This is sent the day after his letter. The poem included is Lewis Carroll's poem Jabberwocky.