If Molly had not been so entirely loyal to her friend, she might have
thought this constant brilliancy a little tiresome when brought into
every-day life; it was not the sunshiny rest of a placid lake, it was
rather the glitter of the pieces of a broken mirror, which confuses
and bewilders.

[Charlotte Brontë] once told her sisters that they were wrong - even morally wrong - in making their heroines beautiful as a matter of course. They replied that it was impossible to make a heroine interesting on any other terms. Her answer was, 'I will prove to you that you are wrong; I will show you a heroine as plain and as small as myself, who shall be as interesting as any of yours.

Bewilderment increases in the presence of the mirrors.

I've always thought there was something very marvelous and magical about mirrors, and that they are connected to memory as well.

Both within the family and without, our sisters hold up our mirrors: our images of who we are and of who we can dare to be.

We are sisters. We will always be sisters.Our differences may never go away, but neither, for me, will our song.