The letter that brought me in was a note from Richard Feynman to his wife who died at the age of 25, found sealed in an envelope after his death. "I love my wife. My wife is dead." If you don't know who Richard Feynman is, you should go find out because he was fascinating - a physicist, a bongo player, a prankster, a playboy, and far more.
There's something about putting ink to paper, that extra second of thought and the permanency of the output seems to create a genre wholly different from email. Reading these letters is like catching whiff of yesterday, dried rose petals.