Sick and Angry and Nerdy

Are any of you the literary nerd type?  I'm trying to find a quote from a Charlotte Bronte novel- either Shirley or Villette.  More likely Shirley.  There is an old maid who is absolutely pure goodness and the heroine goes to visit her and says to herself (not a direct quote, by any means) 'I will be as good and uncomplaining as her; I will devote my life to serving others.'  Later the heroine (Caroline, if the book this is from is indeed Shirley) declares that kind of a life is not enough for her, that she needs something of her own.  (This is all very much misquoted.  I read it years ago and it stung a little at the time.)

I try to be good, but oh I want so much more!  I'm tired of being the friend who's called when no one better is available and the babysitter of my siblings' children.  And even those roles are better than not being needed at all.

I am still sick.  I have a horrible phlegm-y hacking hurting cough and it's worse if I lie down.  I usually get this cough once or twice a year, every year since I was eighteen.  I don't know why the doctor does nothing.  It will probably linger for weeks.

I can't sleep.  I was sitting up in bed, trying to hold in the coughing, angry at the world.  Why am I so sickly?  I can't work on my goals or have any fun.  I just have to cough and cough and cough for the next few weeks.  Why don't I have more close friends?  Why am I not special to anybody?  Why didn't I say something about this terrible haircut?  Why did I pay $50 dollars for it?  Why did I tip the hairdresser on top of that?  Why did none of my family notice the new haircut?  What am I going to write to my father?  Why is this waiting and loneliness the story of my life?

I was sitting up in bed looking down at my feet in the middle of my double bed, surrounded by wide expanses of blue flowered sheets.  It seems long ago that there was a Walrus next to me.  I just kept looking at the empty space wondering who would fill it next, trying to picture this unknowable person and how we would be together...

And then I got mad at Walrus because I waited my whole life to have sex and he decided to get piss-drunk instead.

And tears ran down my face and I got out of bed.  And here I am.
I just want something that's mine.  Mine mine mine!  Walrus doesn't have anything left in his life either- I thought we'd have that in common.  But sharing our nothing didn't really work.