Seeing Yourself

We moved in—I was not at all conscious whither—but at some turn we suddenly encountered another party approaching from the opposite direction. I noted them and for the fraction of a moment believed them all strangers, thus receiving an impartial impression of their appearance. [But then I knew I faced ourselves in a great mirror.]

Thus for the first, and perhaps only time in my life I enjoyed the 'gift' of seeing myself as others see me. No need to dwell on the result. It brought a jar of discord, a pang of regret; it was not flattering, yet, after all, I ought to be thankful: it might have been worse.

—Charlotte Brontë, Villette Ch. XX: The Concert