Having brought my eventide musings to this point, I rose, went to my door, and looked at the sunset of the harvest-day, and at the quiet fields before my cottage, which, with the school, was distant half a mile from the village. The birds were singing their last strains—

— Charlotte Brontë
https://palimpseste.vercel.app/#text/283491fd-0b56-4c2e-a56f-4f3f14d4e857
#lit #bookstodon #books #literature