Lucy is completely alone; she aches for somebody to see her and choose her. It’s so unfair. I don’t think I’ve ever read a more powerful depiction of what it is to be lonely. Forget lonely — isolated, feeling completely cut off from the world. It makes me ache to think of what Brontë herself must have experienced in Brussels, and throughout her life, to inspire this. God this book is good.
— Mar 06, 2026 07:52PM
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