"estella," said i, "do look at that fellow in the corner yonder, who is looking over here at us."
"why should I look at him?" returned estella, with her eyes on
me instead. "what is there in that fellow in the corner yonder--to
use your words--that I need look at?"
"indeed, that is the very question I want to ask you," said i. "for he has been hovering about you all night."
"moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures," replied estella, with a
glance towards him, "hover about a lighted candle. can the candle
“out of my thoughts! you are part of my existence, part of myself. you
have been in every line i have ever read, since i first came here, the
rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. you have been
in every prospect i have ever seen since--on the river, on the sails of
the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the
darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. you
have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever
become acquainted with. the stones of which the strongest london
buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace
with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there
and everywhere, and will be. estella, to the last hour of my life, you
cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good
in me, part of the evil. but, in this separation i associate you only
with the good, and i will faithfully hold you to that always, for you
must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp
distress i may. o god bless you, god forgive you!”
charles dickens, great expectations.
parts of me wish they could be more like estella.
and other parts of me hope to one day write like charles dickens.
the parts that take up more space hope for the latter.