Status Updates From The Professor

Ya llegué al punto de la novela de una Brontë en el que digo "Soy literalmente ella" (pero sin el sentimiento anticatolico)

I know that a pretty doll, a fair fool, might do well enough for the honeymoon: but when passion cooled, how dreadful to find a lump of wax and wood laid in my bosom, a half idiot clasped in my arms, and to remember that I had made of this my equal- nay, my idol- to know that I must pass the rest of my dreary life with a creature incapable of understanding what I said, of appreciating what I thought, or sympathizing.