I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot af… - Charlotte Brontë

For I too liked reading, thought of a frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious or substantial.

So you shun me? - you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate: I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, that your heart has been weeping blood?

I stood lonely enough, but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed: it did not oppress me much.