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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.

-Charlotte Bronte

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I Longed For A

Charlotte Bronte

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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.

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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?

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

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.

What The Deuce Is To Do Now?

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.

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

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

I Would Always Rather Be Happy Than Dignified.

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

I Never Met Your Likeness. Jane: You Please Me, And You Master Me - You Seem To Submit, And I Like The Sense Of Pliancy You Impart; And While I Am Twining The Soft, Silken Skein Round My Finger, It Sends A Thrill Up My Arm To My Heart. I Am Influenced - Conquered; And The Influence Is Sweeter Than I Can Express; And The Conquest I Undergo Has A Witchery Beyond Any Triumph _i_ Can Win.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Rapidly, Merrily, Life's Sunny Hours Flit By, Gratefully, Cheerily Enjoy Them As They Fly!

Conventionality Is Not Morality.

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

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.

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 Have No Wish To Talk Nonsense." "if You Did, It Would Be In Such A Grave, Quiet Manner, I Should Mistake It For Sense.

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

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

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

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 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 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.

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.

Talented People Almost Always Know Full Well The Excellence That Is In Them.

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.

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

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 --

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

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

Laws And Principles Are Not For The Times When There Is No Temptation: They Are For Such Moments As This, When Body And Soul Rise In Mutiny Against Their Rigour ... If At My Convenience I Might Break Them, What Would Be Their Worth?

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

It Is A Pity That Doing One's Best Does Not Always Answer.

Poverty, For Me, Is Synonymous With Degradation.

Reader, I Literally Married Him.

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

The Charm Of Variety There Was Not, Nor The Excitement Of Incident; But I Liked Peace So Well, And Sought Stimulus So Little, That When The Latter Came I Almost Felt It A Disturbance, And Rather Still Wished It Had Held Aloof.

[o]ur Honeymoon Will Shine Our Life Long: Its Beams Will Only Fade Over Your Grave Or Mine.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

The Soul, Fortunately, Has An Interpreter - Often An Unconscious, But Still A Truthful Interpreter - In The Eye.

Novelists Should Never Allow Themselves To Weary Of The Study Of Real Life.

Better To Try All Things And Find All Empty, Than To Try Nothing And Leave Your Life A Blank.

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

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.

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.

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.

Flattery Would Be Worse Than Vain; There Is No Consolation In Flattery.

Let Your Performance Do The Thinking.

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

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.

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 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.

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

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.

Rochester: I Am To Take Mademoiselle To The Moon, And There I Shall Seek A Cave In One Of The White Valleys Among The Volcano-tops, And Mademoiselle Shall Live With Me There, And Only Me.

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

Am I A Liar In Your Eyes?" He Asked Passionately. "little Skeptic, You Shall Be Convinced. What Love Have I For Miss Ingram? None: And That You Know. What Love Has She For Me? None: As I Have Taken Pains To Prove; I Caused A Rumor To Reach Her That My Fortune Was Not A Third Of What Was Supposed, And After That I Presented Myself To See The Result; It Was Coldness Both From Her And Her Mother. I Would Not-i Could Not-marry Miss Ingram. 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.

I Feel Monotony And Death To Be Almost The Same.

You Are Human And Fallible.

What Necessity Is There To Dwell On The Past, When The Present Is So Much Surer-the Future So Much Brighter?

Dwell On The Past

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

Consistency, Madam, Is The First Of Christian Duties.

Cheerfulness, It Would Appear, Is A Matter Which Depends Fully As Much On The State Of Things Within, As On The State Of Things Without And Around Us.

I Have A Strange Feeling With Regard To You. As If I Had A String Somewhere Under My Left Ribs, Tightly Knotted To A Similar String In You. And If You Were To Leave I'm Afraid That Cord Of Communion Would Snap. And I Have A Notion That I'd Take To Bleeding Inwardly. As For You, You'd Forget Me.

Somewhere Under

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.

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.

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

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.

'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.'

The Shadows Are As Important As The Light.

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.

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

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

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.

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

[i]n His Presence I Thoroughly Lived.

Reason Sits Firm And Holds The Reins, And She Will Not Let The Feelings Burst Away And Hurry Her To Wild Chasms. The Passions May Rage Furiously, Like True Heathens, As They Are; And The Desires May Imagine All Sorts Of Vain Things: But Judgment Shall Still Have The Last Word In Every Argument, And The Casting Vote In Every Decision. Strong Wind, Earthquake-shock, And Fire May Pass By: But I Shall Follow The Guiding Of That Still Small Voice Which Interprets The Dictates Of Conscience.

He Is Not To Them What He Is To Me.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

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

Life And Happiness

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

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.

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.

You Never Felt Jealousy, Did You, Miss Eyre? Of Course Not: I Need Not Ask You; Because You Never Felt Love. You Have Both Sentiments Yet To Experience: Your Soul Sleeps; The Shock Is Yet To Be Given Which Shall Waken It.

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 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.

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

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.

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.

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.

I Am Not Talking To You Now Through The Medium Of Custom, Conventionalities, Nor Even Of Mortal Flesh: It Is My Spirit That Addresses Your Spirit; Just As If Both Had Passed Through The Grave, And We Stood At God's Feet, Equal--as We Are!

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.

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?

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.

To Prolong Doubt Was To Prolong Hope.

Who Has Words At The Right Moment?

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

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

Famous Last Words

The Ease Of His Manner Freed Me From Painful Restraint; The Friendly Frankness, As Correct As Cordial, With Which He Treated Me, Drew Me To Him

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

Congratulations

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.

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.

Youth Has Its Romance, And Maturity Its Wisdom, As Morning And Spring Have Their Freshness, Noon And Summer Their Power, Night And Winter Their Repose. Each Attribute Is Good In Its Own Season.

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.

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.

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

Pushing Me Away

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

It Is A Long Way Off, Sir" "from What Jane?" "from England And From Thornfield: And ___" "well?" "from You, Sir

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.

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.

"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." "more Than Girls?" "very Likely."

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.

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.

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

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!

You Transfix Me Quite.

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.

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.

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.

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 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

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.

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

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.

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 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!

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

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

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

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

I Could Not Help It: The Restlessness Was In My Nature; It Agitated Me To Pain Sometimes.

Prodigious Was The Amount Of Life I Lived That Morning.

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

Presentiments Are Strange Things: And So Are Sympathies; And So Are Signs; And The Three Combined Make One Mystery To Which Humanity Has Not Yet Found The Key.

...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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

I Was No Pope - I Could Not Boast Infallibility.

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

What You Want To Ignite In Others Must First Burn Inside Yourself.

It Is Strange,' Pursued He, 'that While I Love Rosomond Oliver So Wildly-with All The Intensity, Indeed, Of A First Passion, The Object Of Which Is Exquisitely Beautiful, Graceful, And Fascinating--i Experience At The Same Time A Calm, Unwarped Consciousness, That She Would Not Make Me A Good Wife; That She Is Not The Partner Suited To Me; That I Should Discover This Within A Year After Marriage; And That To Twelve Months' Rapture Would Succeed A Lifetime Of Regret. This I Know.

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.

Neither Birth Nor Sex Forms A Limit To Genius.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

Amid The Worry Of A Self- Condemnatory Soliloquy, His Demeanour Seemed Grave, Perhaps Cold, Both To Me And His Mother. And Yet There Was No Bad Feeling, No Malice, No Rancour, No Littleness In His Countenance, Beautiful With A Man's Best Beauty, Even In Its Depression. When I Placed His Chair At The Table, Which I Hastened To Do, Anticipating The Servant, And When I Handed Him His Tea, Which I Did With Trembling Care, He Said: "thank You, Lucy," In As Kindly A Tone Of His Full Pleasant Voice As Ever My Ear Welcomed.

Yet It Would Be Your Duty To Bear It, If You Could Not Avoid It: It Is Weak And Silly To Say You Cannot Bear What It Is Your Fate To Be Required To Bear.

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

Propensities And Principles Must Be Reconciled By Some Means.

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.

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.

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

He Made Me Love Him Without Looking At Me.

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.

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!

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!

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 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.

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

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

A Great Deal; You Are Good To Those Who Are Good To You. It Is All I Ever Desire To Be. If People Were Always Kind And Obedient To Those Who Are Cruel And Unjust, The Wicked People Would Have It All Their Own Way; They Would Never Feel Afraid, And So They Would Never Alter, But Would Grow Worse And Worse. 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.

Unheard-of Combinations Of Circumstances Demand Unheard-of Rules.

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.

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

My Sister Emily Loved The Moors. Flowers Brighter Than The Rose Bloomed In The Blackest Of The Heath For Her; Out Of A Sullen Hollow In A Livid Hillside Her Mind Could Make An Eden. She Found In The Bleak Solitude Many And Dear Delights; And Not The Least And Best-loved Was – Liberty.

Intelligence And Proper Education Will Give You Independence Of Spirit.

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

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.

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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Margaret Wise Brown

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