“It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your frame.  And if that boisterous channel came between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapped; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.  As for you, you’d forget me.” 

I am currently about 150 pages shy of finishing re-reading one of my favorite classics, Jane Eyre.  Note that is was one of my goals this year and since I have already read my three new books for January, I decided that I had time to get lost in the 1800s and a story that I adore.  There is a movie coming out in March based on this book and I am interested to see just how they project it on the big screen.

I will admit that I am a hopeless romantic.  I am well aware that if someone could actually crawl into my heart and my dreams that they would die from lack of oxygen due to being unable to breathe from laughing so hard.  I just can’t help myself.  I want to be swept off my feet.  I want to be taken care of and loved.  This book probably doesn’t help me stay focused and in reality, but at this point, does it really matter anyway?!