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Human Beings Must Love Something, And, In The Dearth Of Worthier Objects Of Affection, I Contrived To Find A Pleasure In Loving And Cherishing A Faded Graven Image, Shabby As A Miniature Scarecrow. It Puzzles Me Now To Remember With What Absurd Sincerity I Doated On This Little Toy, Half Fancying It Alive And Capable Of Sensation. I Could Not Sleep Unless It Was Folded In My Night-gown; And When It Lay There Safe And Warm, I Was Comparatively Happy, Believing It To Be Happy Likewise.

-Charlotte Bronte

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Human Beings Must Love

Charlotte Bronte

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Human Beings Must Love Something, And, In The Dearth Of Worthier Objects Of Affection, I Contrived To Find A Pleasure In Loving And Cherishing A Faded Graven Image, Shabby As A Miniature Scarecrow. It Puzzles Me Now To Remember With What Absurd Sincerity I Doated On This Little Toy, Half Fancying It Alive And Capable Of Sensation. I Could Not Sleep Unless It Was Folded In My Night-gown; And When It Lay There Safe And Warm, I Was Comparatively Happy, Believing It To Be Happy Likewise.

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The Human Heart Has Hidden Treasures, In Secret Kept, In Silence Sealed; The Thoughts, The Hopes, The Dreams, The Pleasures, Whose Charms Were Broken If Revealed.

I Knew, You Would Do Me Good, In Some Way, At Some Time;- I Saw It In Your Eyes When I First Beheld You: Their Expression And Smile Did Not- (again He Stopped)- Did Not (he Proceeded Hastily) Strike Delight To My Very Inmost Heart So For Nothing.

It Does Good To No Woman To Be Flattered [by A Man] Who Does Not Intend To Marry Her; And It Is Madness In All Women To Let A Secret Love Kindle Within Them, Which, If Unreturned And Unknown, Must Devour The Life That Feeds It; And, If Discovered And Responded To, Must Lead, Ignis-fatuus-like, Into Miry Wilds Whence There Is No Extrication.

A Waft Of Wind Came Sweeping Down The Laurel-walk, And Trembled Through The Boughs Of The Chestnut: It Wandered Away-away-to An Indefinite Distance-it Died. The Nightingale's Song Was Then The Only Voice Of The Hour: In Listening To It, I Again Wept.

That A Greater Fool Than Jane Eyre Had Never Breathed The Breath Of Life; That A More Fantastic Idiot Had Never Surfeited Herself On Sweet Lies, And Swallowed Poison As If It Were Nectar.

Do You Like Him Much?' I Told You I Liked Him A Little. Where Is The Use Of Caring For Him So Very Much: He Is Full Of Faults.' Is He?' All Boys Are.

The Negation Of Severe Suffering Was The Nearest Approach To Happiness I Expected To Know. Besides, I Seemed To Hold Two Lives - The Life Of Thought, And That Of Reality.

I Can Live Alone, If Self-respect, And Circumstances Require Me So To Do. I Need Not Sell My Soul To Buy Bliss. I Have An Inward Treasure Born With Me, Which Can Keep Me Alive If All Extraneous Delights Should Be Withheld, Or Offered Only At A Price I Cannot Afford To Give.

For I Too Liked Reading, Thought Of A Frivolous And Childish Kind; I Could Not Digest Or Comprehend The Serious Or Substantial.

It Is In Vain To Say Human Beings Ought To Be Satisfied With Tranquility: They Must Have Action; And They Will Make It If They Cannot Find It.

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.

I Like This Day; I Like That Sky Of Steel; I Like The Sternness And Stillness Of The World Under This Frost.

He Is Not To Them What He Is To Me," I Thought: "he Is Not Of Their Kind. I Believe He Is Of Mine- I Am Sure He Is- I Feel Akin To Him- I Understand The Language Of His Countenance And Movements: Though Rank And Wealth Sever Us Widely, I Have Something In My Brain And Heart, In My Blood And Nerves, That Assimilates Me Mentally To Him.

Give Him Enough Rope And He Will Hang Himself.

But Solitude Is Sadness.' 'yes; It Is Sadness. Life, However, Has Worse Than That. Deeper Than Melancholy Lies Heart-break.

I Am No Bird; And No Net Ensnares Me; I Am A Free Human Being With An Independent Will.

You Can Write Nothing Of Value Unless You Give Yourself Wholly To The The Theme -- And When You So Give Yourself -- You Lose Appetite Ans Sleep -- It Cannot Be Helped --

Arraigned At My Own Bar, Memory Having Given Her Evidence Of The Hopes, Wishes, Sentiments I Had Been Cherishing Since Last Night-- Of The General State Of Mind Which I Have Indulged For Nearly A Fortnight Past; Reason Having Come Forward And Told In Her Own Quiet Way , A Plain, Unvarnished Tale, Showing How I Had Rejected The Real, And Rabidly Devoured The Ideal;-- I Pronounced Judgment To This Effect:-- That A Greater Fool Than Jane Eyre Had Never Breathed The Breath Of Life: That A More Fantastic Idiot Had Never Surfeited Herself On Sweet Lies, And Swallowed The Poison As If It Were Nectar.

The Human And Fallible Should Not Arrogate A Power With Which The Divine And Perfect Alone Can Be Safely Intrusted.

The Hiss Of The Quenched Element, The Breakage Of The Pitcher Which I Had Flung From My Hand When I Had Emptied It, And, Above All, The Splash Of The Shower-bath I Had Liberally Bestowed, Roused Mr Rochester At Last Though It Was Dark, I Knew He Was Awake; Because I Heard Him Fulminating Strange Anathemas At Finding Himself Lying In A Pool Of Water. 'is There A Flood?' He Cried

That To Begin With; Let Respect Be The Foundation, Affection The First Floor, Love The Superstructure.

I Had Not Intended To Love Him; The Reader Knows I Had Wrought Hard To Extirpate From My Soul The Germs Of Love There Detected; And Now, At The First Renewed View Of Him, They Spontaneously Revived, Great And Strong! He Made Me Love Him Without Looking At Me.

A Reader Kindly Pointed Out To Me Recently That Most Of The Quotes I Include Are By Men. And It's True. Personally, I Don't Even Consider Whether The Author Is Male Or Female, Nor Even Care Much Who The Author Is - What's Significant Is The Message. Of Course, Women Are Equally Capable Of Great Insights, However In Our Culture It's Not So Long Ago That Women Could Not Even Be Published

The Shadows Are As Important As The Light.

The City Seems So Much More In Earnest: Its Business, Its Rush, Its Roar Are Such Serious Things, Sights And Sounds. The City Is Getting Its Living - The West-end But Enjoying Its Pleasure.

There Is Nothing I Fear So Much As Idleness, The Want Of Occupation, Inactivity, The Lethargy Of The Faculties; When The Body Is Idle, The Spirit Suffers Painfully.

My Future Husband Was Becoming To Me My Whole World; And More Than The World: Almost My Hope Of Heaven. He Stood Between Me And Every Thought Of Religion, As An Eclipse Intervenes Between Man And The Broad Sun. I Could Not, In Those Days, See God For His Creature: Of Whom I Had Made An Idol.

Little Jane's Love Would Have Been My Best Reward, Without It, My Heart Is Broken.

A Beauty Neither Of Fine Colour Nor Long Eyelash, Nor Pencilled Brow, But Of Meaning, Of Movement, Of Radiance.

But This I Know; The Writer Who Possesses The Creative Gift Owns Something Of Which He Is Not Always Master--something That At Times Strangely Wills And Works For Itself. He May Lay Down Rules And Devise Principles, And To Rules And Principles It Will Perhaps For Years Lie In Subjection; And Then, Haply Without Any Warning Of Revolt, There Comes A Time When It Will No Longer Consent.

We Wove A Web In Childhood, A Web Of Sunny Air; We Dug A Spring In Infancy Of Water Pure And Fair; We Sowed In Youth A Mustard Seed, We Cut An Almond Rod; We Are Now Grown Up To Riper Age Are They Withered In The Sod?

Jane, My Little Darling (so I Will Call You, For So You Are), You Don't Know What You Are Talking About; You Misjudge Me Again: It Is Not Because She Is Mad I Hate Her. If You Were Mad, Do You Think I Should Hate You?

For A Long Time The Fear Of Seeming Singular Scared Me Away; But By Degrees, As People Became Accustomed To Me And My Habits, And To Such Shadows Of Peculiarity As Were Engrained In My Nature - Shades, Certainly Not Striking Enough To Interest, And Perhaps Not Prominent Enough To Offend, But Born In And With Me, And No More To Be Parted With Than My Identity - But Slow Degrees I Became A Frequenter Of This Straight Narrow Path.

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.

I Grant An Ugly Woman Is A Blot On The Fair Face Of Creation; But As To The Gentleman, Let Them Be Solicitous To Possess Only Strength And Valour: Let Their Motto Be:hunt, Shoot, And Fight: The Rest Is Not Worth A Flip.

His Mind Was Indeed My Library, And Whenever It Was Opened To Me, I Entered Bliss.

You Are Afraid Of Me, Because I Talk Like A Sphinx.

Reserved People Often Really Need The Frank Discussion Of Their Sentiments And Griefs More Than The Expansive. The Sternest-seeming Stoic Is Human After All, And To Burst With Boldness And Good-will Into The Silent Sea Of Their Souls Is Often To Confer On Them The First Of Obligations.

I Feel Monotony And Death To Be Almost The Same.

Silence Is Of Different Kinds, And Breathes Different Meanings.

I Know I Must Conceal My Sentiments: I Must Smother Hope; I Must Remember That He Cannot Care Much For Me. For When I Say That I Am Of His Kind, I Do Not Mean That I Have His Force To Influence, And His Spell To Attract: I Mean Only That I Have Certain Tastes And Feelings In Common With Him.i Must, Then, Repeat Continually That We Are Forever Sundered: - And Yet, While I Breathe And Think, I Must Love Him.

Unlawful Pleasure, Trenching On Another's Rights, Is Delusive And Envenomed Pleasureits Hollowness Disappoints At The Time, Its Poison Cruelly Tortures Afterwards, Its Effects Deprave Forever.

I Was Actually Permitting Myself To Experience A Sickening Sense Of Disappointment: But Rallying My Wits, And Recollecting My Principles, I At Once Called My Sensations To Order; And It Was Wonderful How I Got Over The Temporary Blunder-how I Cleared Up The Mistake Of Supposing Mr. Rochester's Movements A Matter In Which I Had Any Cause To Take Vital Interest.

As Much Good-will May Be Conveyed In One Hearty Word As In Many.

I Could Not Unlove Him Now, Merely Because I Found That He Had Ceased To Notice Me.

Do You Think, Because I Am Poor, Obscure, Plain And Little, I Am Soulless And Heartless? You Think Wrong! - I Have As Much Soul As You, - And Full As Much Heart! And If God Had Gifted Me With Some Beauty And Much Wealth, I Should Have Made It As Hard For You To Leave Me, As It Is Now For Me To Leave You!

Love Me, Then, Or Hate Me, As You Will," I Said At Last, "you Have My Full And Free Forgiveness: Ask Now For God's, And Be At Peace.

The Idea Of Seeing The Sea - Of Being Near It - Watching Its Changes By Sunrise, Sunset, Moonlight, And Noonday - In Calm, Perhaps In Storm - Fills And Satisfies My Mind.

Flirting Is A Woman’s Trade, One Must Keep In Practice.

Fortune Is Proverbially Called Changeful, Yet Her Caprice Often Takes The Form Of Repeating Again And Again A Similar Stroke Of Luck In The Same Quarter.

I Ask You To Pass Through Life At My Side—to Be My Second Self, And Best Earthly Companion.

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.

God Waits Only The Separation Of Spirit From Flesh To Crown Us With A Full Reward. Why, Then, Should We Ever Sink Overwhelmed With Distress, When Life Is So Soon Over, And Death Is So Certain An Entrance To Happiness -- To Glory?

He Was The First To Recognise Me, And To Love What He Saw.

Oh! That Gentleness! How Far More Potent Is It Than Force!

One Does Not Jump, And Spring, And Shout Hurrah! At Hearing One Has Got A Fortune, One Begins To Consider Responsibilities, And To Ponder Business; On A Base Of Steady Satisfaction Rise Certain Grave Cares, And We Contain Ourselves, And Brood Over Our Bliss With A Solemn Brow.

I Am Very Happy, Jane; And When You Hear That I Am Dead, You Must Be Sure And Not Grieve: There Is Nothing To Grieve About. We All Must Die One Day, And The Illness Which Is Removing Me Is Not Painful; It Is Gentle And Gradual: My Mind Is At Rest. I Leave No One To Regret Me Much: I Have Only A Father; And He Is Lately Married, And Will Not Miss Me. By Dying Young, I Shall Escape Great Sufferings. I Had Not Qualities Or Talents To Make My Way Very Well In The World: I Should Have Been Continually At Fault.

To Prolong Doubt Was To Prolong Hope.

It Is Always The Way Of Events In This Life,...no Sooner Have You Got Settled In A Pleasant Resting Place, Than A Voice Calls Out To You To Rise And Move On, For The Hour Of Repose Is Expired.

A Depressing And Difficult Passage Has Prefaced Every Page I Have Turned In Life.

I Scorn Your Idea Of Love,' I Could Not Help Saying, As I Rose Up And Stood Before Him, Leaning My Back Against The Rock. 'i Scorn The Counterfeit Sentiment You Offer: Yes, St. John, And I Scorn You When You Offer It.

Que Me Voulez-vous?' Said He In A Growl Of Which The Music Was Wholly Confined To His Chest And Throat, For He Kept His Teeth Clenched, And Seemed Registering To Himself An Inward Vow That Nothing Earthly Should Wring From Him A Smile. My Answer Commenced Uncompromisingly: - 'monsieur,' I Said, Je Veux L'impossible, Des Choses Inouïes.

Thank You, Mr. Rochester, For Your Great Kindness. I Am Strangely Glad To Get Back Again To You: And Wherever You Are Is My Home—my Only Home.

To The Dear Eye And Eloquent Tongue, To The Soul Made Of Fire, And The Character That Bends But Does Not Break... I Am Ever Tender And True.

You Know Full Well As I Do The Value Of Sisters' Affections: There Is Nothing Like It In This World.

'i Wish I Had Only Offered You A Sovereign Instead Of Ten Pounds. Give Me Back Nine Pounds, Jane; I’ve A Use For It.' 'and So Have I, Sir,' I Returned, Putting My Hands And My Purse Behind Me. 'i Could Not Spare The Money On Any Account.' 'little Niggard!' Said He, 'refusing Me A Pecuniary Request! Give Me Five Pounds, Jane.' 'not Five Shillings, Sir; Nor Five Pence.' 'just Let Me Look At The Cash.' 'no, Sir; You Are Not To Be Trusted.'

Feeling Without Judgement Is A Washy Draught Indeed; But Judgement Untempered By Feeling Is Too Bitter And Husky A Morsel For Human Deglutition.

Peril, Loneliness, An Uncertain Future, Are Not Oppressive Evils, So Long As The Frame Is Healthy And The Faculties Are Employed; So Long, Especially, As Liberty Lends Us Her Wings, And Hope Guides Us By Her Star.

If Men Could See Us As We Really Are, They Would Be A Little Amazed.

Make My Happiness--i Will Make Yours.

But I Tell You - And Mark My Words - You Will Come Some Day To A Craggy Pass In The Channel, Where The Whole Of Life's Stream Will Be Broken Up Into Whirl And Tumult, Foam And Noise: Either You Will Be Dashed To Atoms On Crag Points, Or Lifted Up And Borne On By Some Master-wave Into A Calmer Current.

You, Jane, I Must Have You For My Own--entirely My Own.

I Thank My Maker, That In The Midst Of Judgment He Has Remembered Mercy. I Humbly Entreat My Redeemer To Give Me Strength To Lead Henceforth A Purer Life Than I Have Done Hitherto.

Give Me Strength

My Hopes Were All Dead --- Struck With A Subtle Doom, Such As, In One Night, Fell On All The First-born In The Land Of Egypt. I Looked On My Cherished Wishes, Yesterday So Blooming And Glowing; They Lay Stark, Chill, Livid Corpses That Could Never Revive.

Enjoy The Blessings Heaven Bestows, Assist His Friends, Forgive His Foes; Trust God, And Keep His Statutes Still, Upright And Firm, Through Good And Ill; Thankful For All That God Has Given, Fixing His Firmest Hopes On Heaven; Knowing That Earthly Joys Decay, But Hoping Through The Darkest Day.

To Women Who Please Me Only By Their Faces, I Am The Very Devil When I Find Out They Have Neither Souls Nor Hearts — When They Open To Me A Perspective Of Flatness, Triviality, And Perhaps Imbecility, Coarseness, And Ill-temper: But To The Clear Eye And Eloquent Tongue, To The Soul Made Of Fire, And The Character That Bends But Does Not Break — At Once Supple And Stable, Tractable And Consistent — I Am Ever Tender And True. (mr Rochester To Jane)

Let Your Performance Do The Thinking.

Prejudices, It Is Well Known, Are Most Difficult To Eradicate From The Heart Whose Soil Has Never Been Loosened Or Fertilized By Education; They Grow Firm There, Firm As Weeds Among Stones.

Neither Birth Nor Sex Forms A Limit To Genius.

Prodigious Was The Amount Of Life I Lived That Morning.

I Wished Critics Would Judge Me As An Author, Not As A Woman.

Mr. Rochester, I No More Assign This Fate To You Than I Grasp At It For Myself. We Were Born To Strive And Endure - You As Well As I: Do So. You Will Forget Me Before I Forget You.

After A Youth And Manhood Passed Half In Unutterable Misery And Half In Dreary Solitude, I Have For The First Time Found What I Can Truly Love--i Have Found You.

In Sunshine, In Prosperity, The Flowers Are Very Well; But How Many Wet Days Are There In Life—november Seasons Of Disaster, When A Man's Hearth And Home Would Be Cold Indeed, Without The Clear, Cheering Gleam Of Intellect.

The Human Heart Has Hidden Treasures, In Secret Kept, In Silence Sealed.

Broken Promises

If There Is One Notion I Hate More Than Another, It Is That Of Marriage - I Mean Marriage In The Vulgar, Weak Sense, As A Mere Matter Of Sentiment.

I Recalled The Voice I Had Heard; Again I Questioned Whence It Came, As Vainly As Before: It Seemed In Me Not In The External World. I Asked, Was It A Mere Nervous Impression A Delusion? I Could Not Conceive Or Believe: It Was More Like An Inspiration.

Your Station Is In My Heart, And On The Necks Of Those Who Would Insult You.

Propensities And Principles Must Be Reconciled By Some Means.

Gentle, Soft Dream, Nestling In My Arms Now, You Will Fly, Too, As Your Sisters Have All Fled Before You: But Kiss Me Before You Go--embrace Me, Jane.

Dread Remorse When You Are Tempted To Err, Miss Eyre; Remorse Is The Poison Of Life.

The Practice Of Hinting By Single Letters Those Expletives With Which Profane And Violent Persons Are Wont To Garnish Their Discourse, Strikes Me As A Proceeding Which, However, Well Meant, Is Weak And Futile. I Cannot Tell What Good It Does - What Feeling It Spares - What Horror It Conceals.

Men, In General, Are A Sort Of Scum, Very Different To Anything Of Which You Have An Idea.

Now For The Hitch In Jane's Character,' He Said At Last, Speaking More Calmly Than From His Look I Had Expected Him To Speak. 'the Reel Of Silk Has Run Smoothly Enough So Far; But I Always Knew There Would Come A Knot And A Puzzle: Here It Is. Now For Vexation, And Exasperation, And Endless Trouble!

I Like Rudeness A Great Deal Better Than Flattery.

What Tale Do You Like Best To Hear?' 'oh, I Have Not Much Choice! They Generally Run On The Same Theme - Courtship; And Promise To End In The Same Catastrophe - Marriage.

What The Deuce Is To Do Now?

Good-night, My-" He Stopped, Bit His Lip, And Abruptly Left Me.

I Smiled: I Thought To Myself Mr. Rochester Is Peculiar — He Seems To Forget That He Pays Me £30 Per Annum For Receiving His Orders. "the Smile Is Very Well," Said He, Catching Instantly The Passing Expression; "but Speak Too." "i Was Thinking, Sir, That Very Few Masters Would Trouble Themselves To Inquire Whether Or Not Their Paid Subordinates Were Piqued And Hurt By Their Orders.

It Would Not Be Wicked To Love Me." "it Would To Obey You.

Such Is The Imperfect Nature Of Man! Such Spots Are There On The Disc Of The Clearest Planet; And Eyes Like Miss Scatcherd's Can Only See Those Minute Defects, And Are Blind To The Full Brightness Of The Orb.

Life Is So Constructed, That The Event Does Not, Cannot, Will Not, Match The Expectation.

I Like The Spirit Of This Great London Which I Feel Around Me. Who But A Coward Would Pass His Whole Life In Hamlets; And For Ever Abandon His Faculties To The Eating Rust Of Obscurity?

I Am No Bird And No Net Ensnares Me

I Stood Lonely Enough, But To That Feeling Of Isolation I Was Accustomed: It Did Not Oppress Me Much.

Whatever The Cause, I Could Not Meet His Sunshine With Cloud. If This Were My Last Moment With Him, I Would Not Waste It In Forced, Unnatural Distance. I Loved Him Well - Too Well Not To Smite Out Of My Path Even Jealousy Herself, When She Would Have Obstructed A Kind Farewell. A Cordial Word From His Lips, Or A Gentle Look From His Eyes, Would Do Me Good, For All The Span Of Life That Remained To Me; It Would Be Comfort In The Last Strait Of Loneliness; I Would Take It - I Would Taste The Elixir, And Pride Should Not Spill The Cup.

You Ask Rather Too Many Questions. I Have Given You Answers Enough For The Present: Now I Want To Read.

Reader, I Literally Married Him.

Daydreams Are The Delusions Of The Devil.

He Is Not To Them What He Is To Me.

If He Were Insane, However, His Was A Very Cool And Collected Insanity.

Am I Hideous, Jane? Very, Sir: You Always Were, You Know.

You Are Human And Fallible.

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.

Better To Be Without Logic Than Without Feeling.

Reader, I Married Him.

Adversity Is A Good School.

I Longed For A Power Of Vision Which Might Overpass That Limit; Which Might Reach The Busy World, Towns, Regions Full Of Life I Had Heard Of But Never Seen: That I Desired More Of Practical Experience Than I Possessed; More Of Intercourse With My Kind, Of Acquaintance With Variety Of Character, Than Was Here Within My Reach.

Is Not The Real Experience Of Each Individual Very Limited? And, If A Writer Dwells Upon That Solely Or Principally, Is He Not In Danger Of Repeating Himself, And Also Of Becoming An Egotist? Then, Too, Imagination Is A Strong, Restless Faculty, Which Claims To Be Heard And Exercised: Are We To Be Quite Deaf To Her Cry, And Insensate To Her Struggles? When She Shows Us Bright Pictures, Are We Never To Look At Them, And Try To Reproduce Them? And When She Is Eloquent, And Speaks Rapidly And Urgently In Our Ear, Are We Not To Write To Her Dictation?

I Had A Theoretical Reverence And Homage For Beauty, Elegance, Gallantry, Fascination But Had I Met Those Qualities Incarnate In Masculine Shape, I Should Have Known Instinctively That They Had Nor Could Have Sympathy With Anything In Me.

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.

Oh, I Am Not Going To Die, Am I? He Will Not Separate Us, We Have Been So Happy.

Famous Last Words

I Try To Avoid Looking Forward Or Backward, And Try To Keep Looking Upward.

I Was No Pope - I Could Not Boast Infallibility.

Happiness Quite Unshared Can Scarcely Be Called Happiness; It Has No Taste.

Life And Happiness

Gentle Reader, May You Never Feel What I Then Felt! May Your Eyes Never Shed Such Stormy, Scalding, Heart-wrung Tears As Poured From Mine. May You Never Appeal To Heaven In Prayers So Hopeless And So Agised As In That Hour Left My Lips: For Never May You, Like Me, Dread To Be The Instrument Of Evil To What You Wholly Love.

I Am Not Your Dear; I Cannot Lie Down: Send Me To School Soon, Mrs. Reed, For I Hate To Live Here.

It Is Not Violence That Best Overcomes Hate -- Nor Vengeance That Most Certainly Heals Injury.

...it Strikes Me With Terror And Anguish To Feel I Absolutely Must Be Torn From You For Ever. I See The Necessity Of Departure; And It Is Like Looking On The Necessity Of Death.

Women Are Supposed To Be Very Calm Generally: But Women Feel Just As Men Feel; They Need Exercise For Their Faculties, And A Field For Their Efforts As Much As Their Brothers Do; They Suffer From Too Rigid A Restraint, Too Absolute A Stagnation, Precisely As Men Would Suffer; And It Is Narrow-minded In Their More Privileged Fellow-creatures To Say That They Ought To Confine Themselves To Making Puddings And Knitting Stockings, To Playing On The Piano And Embroidering Bags.

I Knew You Would Do Me Good In Some Way, At Some Time--i Saw It In Your Eyes When I First Beheld You.

Of Late Years An Abundant Shower Of Curates Has Fallen Upon The North Of England.

Too Often Do Reviewers Remind Us Of The Mob Of Astrologers, Chaldeans, And Soothsayers Gathered Before 'the Writing On The Wall' And Unable To Read The Characters Or Make Known The Interpretation.

Who Has Words At The Right Moment?

I Can Only Say With Deeper Sincerity And Fuller Significance What I Have Always Said In Theory - Wait God's Will.

Jane! Will You Hear Reason?' (he Stooped And Approached His Lips To My Ear) 'because, If You Won't, I'll Try Violence.

I Am Always Easy Of Belief When The Creed Pleases Me.

I Hold Another Creed, Which No One Ever Taught Me, And Which I Seldom Mention, But In Which I Delight, And To Which I Cling, For It Extends Hope To All; It Makes Eternity A Rest - A Mighty Home, Not A Terror And An Abyss. Besides, With This Creed, I Can So Clearly Distinguish Between The Criminal And His Crime; I Can So Sincerely Forgive The First While I Abhor The Last; With This Creed, Revenge Never Worries My Heart, Degradation Never Too Deeply Disgusts Me, Injustice Never Crushes Me Too Low. I Live In Calm, Looking To The End.

There Is, I Am Convinced, No Picture That Conveys In All Its Dreadfulness, A Vision Of Sorrow, Despairing, Remediless, Supreme. If I Could Paint Such A Picture, The Canvas Would Show Only A Woman Looking Down At Her Empty Arms.

There Are Certain Phrases Potent To Make My Blood Boil -- Improper Influence! What Old Woman's Cackle Is That?" "are You A Young Lady?" "i Am A Thousand Times Better: I Am An Honest Woman, And As Such I Will Be Treated.

I Was Glad Of It: I Never Liked Long Walks, Especially On Chilly Afternoons: Dreadful To Me Was The Coming Home In The Raw Twilight, With Nipped Fingers And Toes, And A Heart Saddened By The Chidings Of Bessie, The Nurse, And Humbled By The Consciousness Of My Physical Inferiority To Eliza, John, And Georgiana Reed.

Crying Does Not Indicate That You Are Weak. Since Birth, It Has Always Been A Sign That You Are Alive.

But What Is So Headstrong As Youth? What So Blind As Inexperience?

He Turned Away; He Threw Himself On His Face On The Sofa. 'oh, Jane! My Hope - My Love - My Life!' Broke In Anguish From His Lips.

Love Of My Life

Great Pains Were Taken To Hide Chains With Flowers

I Am Not An Angel," I Asserted; "and I Will Not Be One Till I Die: I Will Be Myself.

Friendship However Is A Plant Which Cannot Be Forced -- True Friendship Is No Gourd Spring Up In A Night And Withering In A Day.

No Reflection Was To Be Allowed Now, Not One Glance Was To Be Cast Back; Not Even One Forward. Not One Thought Was To Be Given Either To The Past Or The Future. The First Was A Page So Heavenly Sweet, So Deadly Sad, That To Read One Line Of It Would Dissolve My Courage And Break Down My Energy. The Last Was An Awful Blank, Something Like Then World When The Deluge Was Gone By.

Liberty Lends Us Her Wings And Hope Guides Us By Her Star.

Jane, Be Still; Don't Struggle So Like A Wild, Frantic Bird, That Is Rending Its Own Plumage In Its Desperation." "i Am No Bird; And No Net Ensnares Me; I Am A Free Human Being, With An Independent Will; Which I Now Exert To Leave You.

Nervous Alarms Should Always Be Communicated, That They May Be Dissipated.

I Can But Die... And I Believe In God. Let Me Try And Wait His Will In Silence.

Every Atom Of Your Flesh Is As Dear To Me As My Own: In Pain And Sickness It Would Still Be Dear.

I'm Just Going To Write Because I Cannot Help It.

I Only Want An Easy Mind, Sir; Not Crushed By Crowded Obligations.

I Sat Down And Tried To Rest. I Could Not; Though I Had Been On Foot All Day, I Could Not Now Repose An Instant; I Was Too Much Excited. A Phase Of My Life Was Closing Tonight, A New One Opening Tomorrow: Impossible To Slumber In The Interval; I Must Watch Feverishly While The Change Was Being Accomplished.

On The Contrary, I'm A Universal Patriot, If You Could Understand Me Rightly: My Country Is The World.

The Eagerness Of A Listener Quickens The Tongue Of A Narrator.

I Both Wished And Feared To See Mr. Rochester On The Day Which Followed This Sleepless Night. I Wanted To Hear His Voice Again, Yet Feared To Meet His Eye.

They Will Both Be Happy, And I Do Not Grudge Them Their Bliss; But I Groan Under My Own Misery: Some Of My Suffering Is Very Acute. Truly, I Ought Not To Have Been Born: They Should Have Smothered Me At First Cry.

Intelligence And Proper Education Will Give You Independence Of Spirit.

If There Are Words And Wrongs Like Knives, Whose Deep Inflicted Lacerations Never Heal - Cutting Injuries And Insults Of Serrated And Poison-dripping Edge - So, Too, There Are Consolations Of Tone Too Fine For The Ear Not Fondly And For Ever To Retain Their Echo: Caressing Kindnesses - Loved, Lingered Over Through A Whole Life, Recalled With Unfaded Tenderness, And Answering The Call With Undimmed Shine, Out Of That Raven Cloud Foreshadowing Death Himself.

Poverty, For Me, Is Synonymous With Degradation.

If We Would Build On A Sure Foundation In Friendship We Must Love Friends For Their Sake Rather Than For Our Own.

My God, Whose Son, As On This Night, Took On Him The Form Of Man, And For Man Vouchsafed To Suffer And Bleed, Controls Thy Hand, And Without His Behest, Thou Canst Not Strike A Stroke. My God Is Sinless, Eternal, All-wise, And In Him Is My Trust, And Though Stripped And Crushed By Thee, -though Naked, Desolate, Void Of Resource- I Do Not Despair:where The Lance Of Guthrum Now Wet With My Blood, I Should Not Despair. I Watch, I Toil, I Hope, I Pray: Jehovah, In His Own Time, Will Aid.

While I Loved, And While I Was Loved, What An Existence I Enjoyed!

I Soon Forgot Storm In Music.

We Know That God Is Everywhere; But Certainly We Feel His Presence Most When His Works Are On The Grandest Scale Spread Before Us; And It Is In The Unclouded Night-sky, Where His Worlds Wheel Their Silent Course, That We Read Clearest His Infinitude, His Omnipotence, His Omnipresence.

I Envy You Your Peace Of Mind, Your Clean Conscience, Your Unpolluted Memory. Little Girl, A Memory Without Blot Of Contamination Must Be An Exquisite Treasure-an Inexhaustible Source Of Pure Refreshment: Is It Not?

I Doubt If I Have Made The Best Use Of All My Calamities. Soft, Amiable Natures They Would Have Refined To Saintliness; Of Strong, Evil Spirits They Would Have Made Demons; As For Me, I Have Only Been A Woe-struck And Selfish Woman.

I Seem To Have Gathered Up A Stray Lamb In My Arms: You Wandered Out Of The Fold To Seek Your Shepherd, Did You, Jane?

It Did Not Seem As If A Prop Were Withdrawn, But Rather As If A Motive Were Gone: It Was Not The Power To Be Tranquil Which Had Failed Me, But The Reason For Tranquility Was No More.

Is There Not A Terrible Hollowness, Mockery, Want, Craving, In That Existence Which Is Given Away To Others, For Want Of Something Of Your Own To Bestow It On?

Friends Always Forget Those Whom Fortune Forsakes.

If You Don't Love Another Living Soul, Then You'll Never Be Disappointed.

Would You Not Be Happier If You Tried To Forget Her Severity, Together With The Passionate Emotions It Excited? Life Appears To Me Too Short To Be Spent In Nursing Animosity, Or Registering Wrongs.

I Believe She Thought I Had Forgotten My Station; And Yours, Sir.' 'station! Station!-- Your Station Is In My Heart, And On The Necks Of Those Who Would Insult You, Now Or Hereafter.

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.

Jane Eyre "i Desired More...than Was Within My Reach. Who Blames Me? Many Call Me Discontented. I Couldn't Help It: The Restlessness Is In My Nature; It Agitated Me To Pain Sometimes.

Self Abandoned, Relaxed And Effortless, I Seemed To Have Laid Me Down In The Dried-up Bed Of A Great River; I Heard A Flood Loosened In Remote Mountains, I Felt The Torrent Come; To Rise I Had No Will, To Flee I Had No Strength.

Her Coming Was My Hope Each Day, Her Parting Was My Pain; The Chance That Did Her Steps Delay Was Ice In Every Vein.

You May Fume And Fidget As You Please: But This Is The Best Plan To Pursue With You, I Am Certain. I Like You More Than I Can Say; But I’ll Not Sink Into A Bathos Of Sentiment: And With This Needle Of Repartee I’ll Keep You From The Edge Of The Gulf Too; And, Moreover, Maintain By Its Pungent Aid That Distance Between You And Myself Most Conducive To Our Real Mutual Advantage.

I Don't Wish To Treat You Like An Inferior: That Is (correcting Himself), I Claim Only Such Superiority As Must Result From Twenty Years' Difference In Age And A Century's Advance In Experience.

I Loved Him Very Much - More Than I Could Trust Myself To Say - More Than Words Had Power To Express." - Jane Eyre

I Have Little Left In Myself -- I Must Have You. The World May Laugh -- May Call Me Absurd, Selfish -- But It Does Not Signify. My Very Soul Demands You: It Will Be Satisfied, Or It Will Take Deadly Vengeance On Its Frame.

Life Appears To Me Too Short To Be Spent In Nursing Animosity, Or Registering Wrongs.

God Did Not Give Me My Life To Throw It Away.

Reserved People Often Really Need The Frank Discussion Of Their Sentiments And Griefs More Than The Expansive.

Fair As A Lily, And Not Only The Pride Of Life, But The Desire Of His Eyes

I Must, Then, Repeat Continually That We Are Forever Sundered - And Yet, While I Breathe And Think, I Must Love Him.' - Jane Eyre

But Where Are You Going To, Helen? Can You See? Do You Know?-i Believe; I Have Faith: I Am Going To God.-where Is God? What Is God?-my Maker And Yours, Who Will Never Destroy What He Created. I Rely Implicitly On His Power, And Confide Wholly In His Goodness: I Count The Hours Till That Eventful One Arrives Which Shall Restore Me To Him, Reveal Him To Me.

I Don't Call You Handsome, Sir, Though I Love You Most Dearly: Far Too Dearly To Flatter You. Don't Flatter Me.

Spring Drew On... And A Greenness Grew Over Those Brown Beds, Which, Freshening Daily, Suggested The Thought That Hope Traversed Them At Night And Left Each Morning Brighter Traces Of Her Steps.

There Was No Possibility Of Taking A Walk That Day.

You Have Introduced A Topic On Which Our Natures Are At Variance - A Topic We Should Never Discuss: The Very Name Of Love Is An Apple Of Discord Between Us. If The Reality Were Required, What Should We Do? How Should We Feel? My Dear Cousin, Abandon Your Scheme Of Marriage - Forget It.

Sir,' I Interrupted Him, 'you Are Inexorable For That Unfortunate Lady; You Speak Of Her With Hate --- With Vindictive Antipathy. It Is Cruel --- She Cannot Help Being Mad.

I Mentally Shake Hands With You For Your Answer, Despite Its Inaccuracy." Mr. Rochester

There Is No Happiness Like That Of Being Loved By Your Fellow Creatures, And Feeling That Your Presence Is An Addition To Their Comfort.

Well Had Solomon Said,'better Is A Dinner Of Herbs Where Love Is, Than A Stalled Ox And Hatred Therewith.

If You Like Poetry Let It Be First Rate, Milton, Shakespeare, Thomson, Goldsmith Pope (if You Will Though I Don't Admire Him), Scott, Byron, Campbell, Wordsworth And Southey. Now Ellen Don't Be Startled At The Names Of Shakespeare, And Byron. Both These Were Great Men And Their Works Are Like Themselves, You Will Know How To Chuse The Good And Avoid The Evil, The Finestpassages Are Always The Purest, The Bad Are Invariably Revolting You Will Never Wish To Read Them Over Twice.

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Charlotte Gainsbourg

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