"‘You are cold, because you are alone: no contact strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick, because the best of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given to man, keeps far away from you. You are silly, because, suffer as you may, you will not beckon it to approach, nor will you stir on step to meet it where it waits for you.’"
written by Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre, 1846 (via hernamewasmarlasinger)