Charlotte Bronte. Jane Eyre (№ 151756)

Steppe burial mound, covered by a raging, all-devouring flame, might serve as the emblem of my soul, when I accused Mrs. reed and threatened her: the same step, but a black, incinerated - that's the way my state of mind when, after half an hour of meditation in silence, I realized how reckless my behavior was and how hard it is to be hated and to hate.