I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many-coloured, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy – dreams where, amidst unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him – the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire. Then I awoke. Then I recalled where I was, and how situated. Then I rose up on my curtainless bed, trembling and quivering; and then the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and heard the burst of passion. By nine o’clock the next morning I was punctually opening the school; tranquil, settled, prepared for the steady duties of the day.

– Charlotte Bronte

Jane Eyre, Chapter 32. Life in Morton has its compensations for Jane – independence, a teaching job, a house and educating her young scholars. But she is troubled at night by unsettling dreams about Rochester. While St. John Rivers can surpress his true feelings for Rosamond, Jane is unable do the same for her love for Rochester. Jane’s dreams are a window into her emotional mind.