Charlotte Bronte. Jane Eyre (№ 43358)

I was straining to wrest from my soul the germs of love as I found them. And now when you first look at it they immediately came to life: green, full of life! He forced me to love him again, not even looking in my direction.
(I didn't want to love him; the reader knows what I did effort to wrest from my soul the first shoots of this love; and now with a fleeting glance at it, they came back to life and powerfully turned green. He forced me again to love him, even though he apparently didn't even notice me.)