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| 居里先生给(后来的)居里夫人的求爱信 Renowned physicist Pierre Curie (1859 - 1906) shared more than a house and
 bed with his wife Marie: in 1903 they shared the Nobel Prize. Born in Poland,
 Marie Sklodovska was not only young and charming, but also Pierre's intellectual
 equal. The following letter contains one of his many marriage proposals, which
 she initially refused. Eventually, however, he won her heart and they were
 married in 1895. August 10, 1894 Nothing could have given me greater pleasure
 that to get news of you. The prospect of remaining two months without hearing
 about you had been extremely disagreeable to me: that is to say, your little
 note was more than welcome. I hope you are laying up a stock of good air and
 that you will come back to us in October. As for me, I think I shall not go
 anywhere; I shall stay in the country, where I spend the whole day in front of
 my open window or in the garden. We have promised each other -- haven't we? --
 to be at least great friends. If you will only not change your mind! For there
 are no promises that are binding; such things cannot be ordered at will. It
 would be a fine thing, just the same, in which I hardly dare believe, to pass
 our lives near each other, hypnotized by our dreams: your patriotic dream, our
 humanitarian dream, and our scientific dream. Of all those dreams the last is, I
 believe, the only legitimate one. I mean by that that we are powerless to change
 the social order and, even if we were not, we should not know what to do; in
 taking action, no matter in what direction, we should never be sure of not doing
 more harm than good, by retarding some inevitable evolution. From the scientific
 point of view, on the contrary, we may hope to do something; the ground is
 solider here, and any discovery that we may make, however small, will remain
 acquired knowledge. See how it works out: it is agreed that we shall be great
 friends, but if you leave France in a year it would be an altogether too
 Platonic friendship, that of two creatures who would never see each other again.
 Wouldn't it be better for you to stay with me? I know that this question angers
 you, and that you don't want to speak of it again -- and then, too, I feel so
 thoroughly unworthy of you from every point of view. I thought of asking your
 permission to meet you by chance in Fribourg. But you are staying there, unless
 I am mistaken, only one day, and on that day you will of course belong to our
 friends the Kovalskis. Believe me your very devoted Peirre Curie
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