Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I do not love you: I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world.
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But life is a battle: may we all be enabled to fight it well!
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I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.
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Poverty, for me, is synonymous with degradation.
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Talented people almost always know full well the excellence that is in them.
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I am not an angel,' I asserted; 'and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me - for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.
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To prolong doubt was to prolong hope.
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Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.
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All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.
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My fine visions are all very well, but I must not forget they are absolutely unreal. I have a rosy sky and a green flowery Eden in my brain; but without, I am perfectly aware, lies at my feet a rough tract to travel, and around me gather black tempests to encounter.
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What delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me?
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Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere.
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Men, in general, are a sort of scum, very different to anything of which you have an idea.
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Life is still life, whatever its pangs; our eyes and ears and their use remain with us, though the prospect of what pleases be wholly withdrawn, and the sound of what consoles must be silenced.
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I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing.
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For those who are not hungry, it is easy to palaver about the degradation of charity.
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There's no use in weeping, Though we are condemned to part: There's such a thing as keeping, A remembrance in one's heart.
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If life be a war, it seemed my destiny to conduct it single-handed.
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I soon forgot storm in music.
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I have no wish to talk nonsense." "If you did, it would be in such a grave, quiet manner, I should mistake it for sense.
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So you shun me? - you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate: I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, that your heart has been weeping blood?
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Monsieur, sit down; listen to me. I am not a heathen, I am not hard-hearted, I am not unchristian, I am not dangerous, as they tell you; I would not trouble your faith; you believe in God and Christ and the Bible, and so do I.
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Little Jane's love would have been my best reward, without it, my heart is broken.
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The word book acted as a transient stimulus...