Quotation from: Villette

Written by: Charlotte Bronte


"Do not let me think of them too often, too much, too fondly," I
implored: "let me be content with a temperate draught of this living
stream: let me not run athirst, and apply passionately to its welcome
waters: let me not imagine in them a sweeter taste than earth's
fountains know. Oh! would to God I may be enabled to feel enough
sustained by an occasional, amicable intercourse, rare, brief,
unengrossing and tranquil: quite tranquil!"


Still repeating this word, I turned to my pillow; and _still_
repeating it, I steeped that pillow with tears.

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