My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden.
Charlotte BronteAs to the thoughts, they are elfish. Those eyes in the Evening Star you must have seen in a dream.
Charlotte Bronte