Jane Eyre.
Ah, Jane Eyre. . . . . . No, I am lost for words to express the feeling impressed upon my reason. I ache in pain. I throb in pleasure. I weep in sorrow. I am a beast in heat. I am a lamb afraid. I am a falcon arisen. I am everything that is human and immortal. If this is Hell, I am most gladdened to enter its abode. Oh, Charlotte, you demon! You are the witch who had bewitched me with your words and tempted me with your heroine, and shamed me with your hero. But in the end it was only a fleeting feeling. Yes, I had lost my mind, but only for a moment. Yes, I had escaped this world into another, but the illusion extinguished as quickly as it had ignited.
Oh, alas, it was but a dream!