The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe — Read

Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, / Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain: / Awake but one, and lo! what myriads rise! / Each stamps its image as the other flies! / - Pleasures of Memory

Emily pursued her journey, without any accident, along the plains of Languedoc towards the northwest; and, on this her return to Toulouse, which she had last left with Madame Montoni, she thought much on the melancholy fate of her aunt, who, but for her own imprudence, might now have been living in happiness there! Montoni, too, often rose to her fancy, such as she had seen him in his days of triumph, bold, spirited and commanding; such also as she had since beheld him in his days of vengeance; and now, only a few short months had passed -- and he had no longer the power, or the will to afflict; -- he had become a clod of earth, and his life was vanished like a shadow! Emily could have wept at his fate, had she not remembered his crimes; for that of her unfortunate aunt she did weep, and all sense of her errors was overcome by the recollection of her misfortunes.