“I begin to think,' said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment
of calm wonder, 'that I almost understand how this comes about. If you
had brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of
these rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as
the daylight by which she has never once seen your face―if you had done
that, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to understand the daylight
and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and angry? . .
.' Or,' said Estella, '―which is a nearer case―if you had taught her,
from the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and might,
that there was such a thing as daylight, but that it was made to be her
enemy and destroyer, and she must always turn against it, for it had
blighted you and would else blight her―if you had done this, and then,
for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she
could not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry? . . .' So,'
said Estella, 'I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not
mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”
Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
