"...I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many-colored, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy - dreams where admidst unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him - the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire."
Jane Eyre
by Charlotte Bronte