“I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more… — Charlotte Brontë

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? Of labor you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come.

Nothing is wretched, but thinking makes it so, and conversely every lot is happy if borne with equanimity.

— BoethiusStrength

Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.

I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am… — Charlotte Brontë