No Fitting Title Presents Itself To My Imagination

I've just finished reading Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. Whene'er I take up to read seventeenth or eighteenth century literature, I am struck by a keen desire to speak and act as the characters do.

Of course, that would become tedious after only a short while. People might choose rather to avoid me than endure my pompous speech and mannerisms. It is a pity.

For now, I will let my mind echo with sentences that bear the likeness of those penned by Austen, Hardy, and the Bronte sisters as I watch Franco Ziffereli's interpretation of the lately finished novel.

UPDATE: My viewing experience was regrettably cut short because the DVD Netflix had sent froze about an hour in. I reported the problem and a new disc is being sent right out. Damn right it is!