I do believe there are some human beings so born, so reared, so guided from a soft cradle to a calm and late grave, that no excessive suffering penetrates their lot, and no tempestuous blackness overcasts their journey.
There are times when I feel these words to my very soul. I think I was inspired by Villette a little in Red Rose. Bronte does not hold back on throwing every torture possible upon Lucy from the beginning of the story to the end, so that this passage, in itself cradled amidst her inner torments is wrought with great feeling. I am a dark soul like Lucy, and I feel these words to my very soul sometimes during the day as I listen to others in what is perhaps a bout of self-indulgent self-tragedy.