Glorious! that blast was mighty. […]There was something in the heavier rush that made the very house groan as if it could scarce bear this acceleration of impetus. O it has wakened a feeling that I cannot satisfy! A thousand wishes rose at its call which must die within me, for they will never be fulfilled.
|—||Charlotte Brontë musing on a torrent of wind blowing about the house during her stay at Roe Head, 1836.|