Francesca

“She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they would help her have better dreams. And if she couldn’t sleep, she could just read them and be reminded of something so stunningly beautiful that her heart would swell and her bones would sigh and for just a second, the world would not seem like it was going to crush her.”
― Emily Brontë

“It won’t do, gentlemen. I’m a solitary sort, I get chaffed by too many elbows.”
― Louis Bayard, The Pale Blue Eye

“Books, Mr. Landor!” “I do read, yes.” Not much of a library—a scant three rows in all—but mine. Poe’s fingers glided along the bindings.”
― Louis Bayard, The Pale Blue Eye

“He became, in that instant, pure topography: his belly a highland, tapering down to a head-hamlet, with two hard-blinking eye-ponds. Four servants rushed to his aid. He waved them off with a smile. Made”
― Louis Bayard, The Pale Blue Eye