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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.

-Charlotte Bronte

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I Know I Must

Charlotte Bronte

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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.

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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.

Even For Me Life Had Its Gleams Of Sunshine.

Mademoiselle Is A Fairy," He Said, Whispering Mysteriously.

If All The World Hated You, And Believed You Wicked, While Your Own Conscience Approved You, And Absolved You From Guilt, You Would Not Be Without Friends.

The Trouble Is Not That I Am Single And Likely To Stay Single, But That I Am Lonely And Likely To Stay Lonely.

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

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.

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.

I Soon Forgot Storm In Music.

Mr. Rochester, If Ever I Did A Good Deed In My Life — If Ever I Thought A Good Thought—if Ever I Prayed A Sincere And Blameless Prayer — If Ever I Wished A Righteous Wish — I Am Rewarded Now. To Be Your Wife Is, For Me, To Be As Happy As I Can Be On Earth.

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

I Believe While I Tremble; I Trust While I Weep.

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

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

I Do Not Think, Sir, You Have Any Right To Command Me, Merely Because You Are Older Than I, Or Because You Have Seen More Of The World Than I Have; Your Claim To Superiority Depends On The Use You Have Made Of Your Time And Experience.

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

I Am No Bird And No Net Ensnares Me

I Looked, And Had An Acute Pleasure In Looking,--a Precious Yet Poignant Pleasure; Pure Gold, With A Steely Point Of Agony: A Pleasure Like What The Thirst-perishing Man Might Feel Who Knows The Well To Which He Has Crept Is Poisoned, Yet Stoops And Drinks Divine Draughts Nevertheless.

I Feel Monotony And Death To Be Almost The Same.

For Those Who Are Not Hungry, It Is Easy To Palaver About The Degradation Of Charity.

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.

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

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

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

Famous Last Words

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.

Alas! Never Had I Loved Him So Well!

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

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

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.

God Surely Did Not Create Us, And Cause Us To Live, With The Sole End Of Wishing Always To Die. I Believe, In My Heart, We Were Intended To Prize Life And Enjoy It, So Long As We Retain It. Existence Never Was Originally Meant To Be That Useless, Blank, Pale, Slow-trailing Thing It Often Becomes To Many, And Is Becoming To Me, Among The Rest.

Men Judge Us By The Success Of Our Efforts. God Looks At The Efforts Themselves.

Congratulations

I Shall Be Thirty-one Next Birthday. My Youth Is Gone Like A Dream; And Very Little Use Have I Ever Made Of It. What Have I Done These Last Thirty Years? Precious Little.

'my Bride Is Here,' Rochester Said , Again Drawing Me To Him, 'because My Equal Is Here, And My Likeness. Jane, Will You Marry Me?'

Will You Marry Me

Reader, I Married Him.

When His First-born Was Put Into His Arms, He Could See That The Boy Had Inherited His Own Eyes, As They Once Were - Large, Brilliant, And Black.

Misery Generates Hate.

I Have For The First Time Found What I Can Truly Love- I Have Found You. You Are My Sympathy-my Better Self-my Good Angel-i Am Bound To You With A Strong Attachment.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

Friends Always Forget Those Whom Fortune Forsakes.

Nature Seemed To Me Benign And Good; I Thought She Loved Me, Outcast As I Was; And I, Who From Man Could Anticipate Only Mistrust, Rejection, Insult, Clung To Her With Filial Fondness. To-night At Least, I Would Be Her Guest-as I Was Her Child; My Mother Would Lodge Me Without Money And Without Price.

At Heart, He Could Not Abide Sense In Women: He Liked To See Them As Silly, As Light-headed, As Vain, As Open To Ridicule As Possible; Because They Were Then In Reality What He Held Them To Be, And Wished Them To Be,--inferior: Toys To Play With, To Amuse A Vacant Hour And To Be Thrown Away.

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

Everyone Else Is Just Cocktails.

I Was No Pope - I Could Not Boast Infallibility.

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.

It Is A Very Strange Sensation To Inexperience Youth To Feel Itself Quite Alone The World, Cut Adrift From Every Connection, Uncertain Whether The Port To Which It Is Bound Can Be Reached, And Prevented By Many Impediments From Returning To That It Has Quitted. The Charm Of Adventure Sweetens That Sensation, The Glow Of Pride Warms It; But Then The Throb Of Fear Disturbs It; And Fear With Me Became Predominant When Half An Hour Elapsed, And Still I Was Alone.

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.

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

Something Of Vengeance I Had Tasted For The First Time; As Aromatic Wine It Seemed, On Swallowing, Warm And Racy: Its After-flavour, Metallic And Corroding, Gave Me A Sensation As If I Had Been Poisoned.

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

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 Know What It Is To Live Entirely For And With What I Love Best On Earth. I Hold Myself Supremely Blest -- Blest Beyond What Language Can Express; Because I Am My Husband's Life As Fully As He Is Mine.

Reader, I Literally Married Him.

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.

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

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.

I Would Not Be You For A Kingdom.' The Remark Was Too Naïve To Rouse Anger; I Merely Said - 'very Good.' 'and What Would You Give To Be Me?' She Inquired. 'not A Bad Sixpence - Strange As It May Sound', I Replied. 'you Are But A Poor Creature.' 'you Don't Think So In Your Heart.' 'no; For In My Heart You Have Not The Outline Of A Place: I Only Occasionally Turn You Over In My Brain.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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 Believe In Some Blending Of Hope And Sunshine Sweetening The Worst Lots. I Believe That This Life Is Not All; Neither The Beginning Nor The End. I Believe While I Tremble; I Trust While I Weep.

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.

Great Pains Were Taken To Hide Chains With Flowers

Human Beings Never Enjoy Complete Happiness In This World. I Was Not Born For A Different Destiny To The Rest Of My Species: To Imagine Such A Lot Befalling Me Is A Fairy Tale -- A Daydream." "which I Can And Will Realise. I Shall Begin Today.

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.

Out Of Association Grows Adhesion, And Out Of Adhesion Amalgamation.

Die Without Me If You Will. Live For Me If You Dare.

Rochester: "i Am No Better Than The Old Lightning-struck Chestnut-tree In Thornfield Orchard…and What Right Would That Ruin Have To Bid A Budding Woodbine Cover Its Decay With Freshness?" Jane: "you Are No Ruin Sir - No Lighting-struck Tree: You Are Green And Vigorous. Plants Will Grow About Your Roots, Whether You Ask Them Or Not, Because They Take Delight In Your Bountiful Shadow; And As They Grow They Will Lean Towards You, And Wind Round You, Because Your Strength Offers Them So Safe A Prop.

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.

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 --

You Had No Right To Be Born; For You Make No Use Of Life. Instead Of Living For, In, And With Yourself, As A Reasonable Being Ought, You Seek Only To Fasten Your Feebleness On Some Other Person's Strength.

Children Can Feel, But They Cannot Analyse Their Feelings; And If The Analysis Is Partially Effected In Thought, They Know Not How To Express The Result Of The Process In Words.

My Rest Might Have Been Blissful Enough, Only A Sad Heart Broke It.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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

You — You Strange — You Almost Unearthly Thing! — I Love As My Own Flesh. You — Poor And Obscure, And Small And Plain As You Are — I Entreat To Accept Me As A Husband.

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

There Was No Possibility Of Taking A Walk That Day.

Writers Cannot Choose Their Own Mood: With Them It Is Not Always Hide-tide, Nor --thank Heaven!--always Storm.

Make My Happiness--i Will Make Yours.

I Think You Will Learn To Be Natural With Me, As I Find It Impossible To Be Conventional With You

Strange That Grief Should Now Almost Choke Me, Because Another Human Being's Eye Has Failed To Greet Mine.

My Love Has Placed Her Little Hand With Noble Faith In Mine, And Vowed That Wedlock's Sacred Band Our Nature Shall Entwine. My Love Has Sworn, With Sealing Kiss, With Me To Live -- To Die; I Have At Last My Nameless Bliss: As I Love -- Loved Am I!

Now It Is Not Everybody, Even Amongst Our Respected Friends And Esteemed Acquaintance, Whom We Like To Have Near Us, Whom We Like To Watch Us, To Wait On Us, To Approach Us With The Proximity Of A Nurse To A Patient. It Is Not Every Friend Whose Eye Is A Light In A Sickroom, Whose Presence Is There A Solace.

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

Look Twice Before You Leap.

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.

Poverty, For Me, Is Synonymous With Degradation.

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

True Enthusiasm Is A Fine Feeling Whose Flash I Admire Where-ever I See It.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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 Eagerness Of A Listener Quickens The Tongue Of A Narrator.

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.

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

The Man Of Regular Life And Rational Mind Never Despairs.

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.

It Is Good To Be Attracted Out Of Ourselves, To Be Forced To Take A Near View Of The Sufferings, The Privations, The Efforts, The Difficulties Of Others.

Conventionality Is Not Morality. Self-righteousness Is Not Religion. To Attack The First Is Not To Assail The Last.

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.

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.

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

To Prolong Doubt Was To Prolong Hope.

Whatever My Powers--feminine Or The Contrary--god Had Given Them, And I Felt Resolute To Be Ashamed Of No Faculty Of His Bestowal.

I Could Not Answer The Ceaseless Inward Question-why I Thus Suffered; Now, At The Distance Of-i Will Not Say How Many Years, I See It Clearly.

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

Intelligence And Proper Education Will Give You Independence Of Spirit.

If He Does Go, The Change Will Be Doleful. Suppose He Should Be Absent Spring, Summer, And Autumn: How Joyless Sunshine And Fine Days Will Seem!

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

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.

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

Jane Austin Was A Complete And Most Sensible Lady, But A Very Incomplete And Rather Insensible (not Senseless) Woman. If This Is Heresy, I Cannot Help It.

It Is Hard Work To Control The Workings Of Inclination And Turn The Bent Of Nature; But That It May Be Done, I Know From Experience. God Has Given Us, In A Measure, The Power To Make Our Own Fate.

No Mockery In This World Ever Sounds To Me So Hollow As That Of Being Told To Cultivate Happiness. What Does Such Advice Mean? Happiness Is Not A Potato, To Be Planted In Mould, And Tilled With Manure.

To You I Am Neither Man Nor Woman. I Come Before You As An Author Only. It Is The Sole Standard By Which You Have A Right To Judge Me--the Sole Ground On Which I Accept Your Judgment.

Oft A Little Morning Rain Foretells A Pleasant Day.

I Would Always Rather Be Happy Than Dignified.

I See At Intervals The Glance Of A Curious Sort Of Bird Through The Close Set Bars Of A Cage: A Vivid, Restless, Resolute Captive Is There; Were It But Free, It Would Soar Cloud-high.

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

All These Relics Gave... Thornfield Hall The Aspect Of A Home Of The Past: A Shrine To Memory. I Liked The Hush, The Gloom, The Quaintness Of These Retreats In The Day; But I By No Means Coveted A Night's Repose On One Of Those Wide And Heavy Beds: Shut In, Some Of Them, With Doors Of Oak; Shaded, Others, With Wrought Old-english Hangings Crusted With Thick Work, Portraying Effigies Of Strange Flowers, And Stranger Birds, And Strangest Human Beings, All Which Would Have Looked Strange, Indeed, By The Pallid Gleam Of Moonlight.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Tact, If It Be Genuine, Never Sleeps.

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.

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.

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

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

Shake Me Off, Then, Sir--push Me Away; For I'll Not Leave You Of My Own Accord.

Pushing Me Away

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.

I Have Not Broken Your Heart - You Have Broken It; And In Breaking It, You Have Broken Mine.

I Mean That I Value Vision, And Dread Being Struck Stone Blind.

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.

It Is Far Better To Endure Patiently A Smart Which Nobody Feels But Yourself, Than To Commit A Hasty Action Whose Evil Consequences Will Extend To All Connected With You.

A New Chapter In A Novel Is Something Like A New Scene In A Play.

If You Are Cast In A Different Mould To The Majority, It Is No Merit Of Yours: Nature Did It.

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

There Are Not Unfrequently Substantial Reasons Underneath For Customs That Appear To Us Absurd; And If I Were Ever Again To Find Myself Amongst Strangers, I Should Be Solicitous To Examine Before I Condemned.

I Am Anchored On A Resolve You Cannot Shake. My Heart, My Conscience Shall Dispose Of My Hand - They Only. Know This At Last.

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.

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

He Is Not To Them What He Is To Me.

No Severe Or Prolonged Bodily Illness Followed This Incident Of The Red-room: It Only Gave My Nerves A Shock, Of Which I Feel The Reverberation To This Day.

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.

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.

When We Are Struck At Without A Reason, We Should Strike Back Again Very Hard; I Am Sure We Should - So Hard As To Teach The Person Who Struck Us Never To Do It Again.

Good Fortune Opens The Hand As Well As The Heart Wonderfully; And To Give Somewhat When We Have Largely Received, But To Afford A Vent To The Unusual Ebullition Of The Sensations.

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)

You Have Rather The Look Of Another World. I Marvelled Where You Had Got That Sort Of Face.

I Had Not Seen "pride And Prejudice," Till I Read That Sentence Of Yours, And Then I Got The Book. And What Did I Find? An Accurate Daguerreotyped Portrait Of A Common-place Face; A Carefully Fenced, Highly Cultivated Garden, With Neat Borders And Delicate Flowers; But No Glance Of A Bright, Vivid Physiognomy, No Open Country, No Fresh Air, No Blue Hill, No Bonny Beck. I Should Hardly Like To Live With Her Ladies And Gentlemen, In Their Elegant But Confined Houses.

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?

Consistency, Madam, Is The First Of Christian Duties.

My Wretched Feet, Flayed And Swollen To Lameness By The Sharp Air Of January, Began To Heal And Subside Under The Gentler Breathings Of April; The Nights And Mornings No Longer By Their Canadian Temperature Froze The Very Blood In Our Veins; We Could Now Endure The Play-hour Passed In The Garden.

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.

Who Has Words At The Right Moment?

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

It Is One Of My Faults, That Though My Tongue Is Sometimes Prompt Enough At An Answer, There Are Times When It Sadly Fails Me In Framing An Excuse; And Always The Lapse Occurs At Some Crisis, When A Facile Word Or Plausible Pretext Is Specially Wanted To Get Me Out Of Painful Embarrassment.

This Is A Terrible Hour, But It Is Often That Darkest Point Which Precedes The Rise Of Day; That Turn Of The Year When The Icy January Wind Carries Over The Waste At Once The Dirge Of Departing Winter, And The Prophecy Of Coming Spring.

Jane, I Never Meant To Wound You Thus...will You Ever Forgive Me?" Reader, I Forgave Him At The Moment And On The Spot.

And With That Answer, He Left Me. I Would Much Rather He Had Knocked Me Down.

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

I Thought I Loved Him When He Went Away; I Love Him Now In Another Degree: He Is More My Own. [ . . . ] Oh! A Thousand Weepers, Praying In Agony On Waiting Shores, Listened For That Voice, But It Was Not Uttered--not Uttered Till; When The Hush Came, Some Could Not Feel It: Till, When The Sun Returned, His Light Was Night To Some!

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

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.

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.

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

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?

Human Beings Must Have Action; And They Will Make It If They Cannot Find It.

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.

Take My Love. One Day Share My Life. Be My Dearest, First On Earth.

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

Sometimes I Have The Strangest Feeling About You. Especially When You Are Near Me As You Are Now. It Feels As Though I Had A String Tied Here Under My Left Rib Where My Heart Is, Tightly Knotted To You In A Similar Fashion. And When You Go To Ireland, With All That Distance Between Us, I Am Afraid That This Cord Will Be Snapped, And I Shall Bleed Inwardly.

Memory In Youth Is Active And Easily Impressible; In Old Age It Is Comparatively Callous To New Impressions, But Still Retains Vividly Those Of Earlier Years.

As Far As My Experience Of Matrimony Goes -- I Think It Tends To Draw You Out Of, And Away From Yourself.

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

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