Quotation from: Villette

Written by: Charlotte Bronte

At that time, I well remember whatever could excite--certain accidents
of the weather, for instance, were almost dreaded by me, because they
woke the being I was always lulling, and stirred up a craving cry I
could not satisfy. One night a thunder-storm broke; a sort of
hurricane shook us in our beds: the Catholics rose in panic and prayed
to their saints. As for me, the tempest took hold of me with tyranny:
I was roughly roused and obliged to live. I got up and dressed myself,
and creeping outside the casement close by my bed, sat on its ledge,
with my feet on the roof of a lower adjoining building. It was wet, it
was wild, it was pitch-dark. Within the dormitory they gathered round
the night-lamp in consternation, praying loud. I could not go in: too
resistless was the delight of staying with the wild hour, black and
full of thunder, pealing out such an ode as language never delivered
to man--too terribly glorious, the spectacle of clouds, split and
pierced by white and blinding bolts.