fast i min neverending bok. ljusglimt i mörker. typ.

här grät jag:

"No explanation was afforded then to my many questions; but a day or two afterwards I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had found me laid in a little crib; my face against Helen Burns's shoulder, my arms around her neck. I was asleep, and Helen was dead."


Här skrattade jag:

"You examine me, miss Eyre. Do you find me handsome? 
- No sir."


"she could not charm him.
If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and sincerely laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face, turned to the wall, and (figuratively) have died.
-
I should have had one vital struggle with two tigers - jealousy and despair: then, my heart torn out and devoured, I should have admired her."


Er dagliga dos Jane Eyre. Varsågoda.

Vafalls? Ni har inget sådant omättat behov eller beroende?

Aja. Från och med nu då.