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'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.'

-Charlotte Bronte

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'i Wish I Had

Charlotte Bronte

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'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.'

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Neither Birth Nor Sex Forms A Limit To Genius.

You Mocking Changeling- Fairy-born And Human-bred!

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.

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?

A Christmas Frost Had Come At Midsummer; A White December Storm Had Whirled Over June; Ice Glazed The Ripe Apples, Drifts Crushed The Blowing Roses; On Hayfield And Cornfield Lay A Frozen Shroud: Lanes Which Last Night Blushed Full Of Flowers, To-day Were Pathless With Untrodden Snow; And The Woods, Which Twelve Hours Since Waved Leafy And Flagrant As Groves Between The Tropics, Now Spread, Waste, Wild, And White As Pine-forests In Wintry Norway.

I Soon Forgot Storm In Music.

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

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

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

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

Even For Me Life Had Its Gleams Of Sunshine.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Remorse Is The Poison Of Life.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Congratulations

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

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

When You Are Inquisitive, Jane, You Always Make Me Smile. You Open Your Eyes Like An Eager Bird, And Make Every Now And Then A Restless Movement, As If Answers In Speech Did Not Flow Fast Enough For You, And You Wanted To Read The Tablet Of One's Heart.

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.

We Should Acknowledge God Merciful, But Not Always For Us Comprehensible.

Religious Faith

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Oft A Little Morning Rain Foretells A Pleasant Day.

All My Heart Is Yours, Sir: It Belongs To You; And With You It Would Remain, Were Fate To Exile The Rest Of Me From Your Presence Forever.

Propensities And Principles Must Be Reconciled By Some Means.

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

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!

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

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

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 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.

...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.

If Life Be A War, It Seemed My Destiny To Conduct It Single-handed.

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.

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

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

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

Silence Is Of Different Kinds, And Breathes Different Meanings.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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. I Think You Good, Gifted, Lovely: A Fervent, A Solemn Passion Is Conceived In My Heart; It Leans To You, Draws You To My Centre And Spring Of Life, Wrap My Existence About You–and, Kindling In Pure, Powerful Flame, Fuses You And Me In One.

Look Twice Before You Leap.

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.

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

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

What The Deuce Is To Do Now?

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.

It Seems To Me, Monsieur, That There Is Nothing More Galling In Great Physical Misfortunes Than To Be Compelled To Make All Those About Us Share In Our Sufferings. The Ills Of The Soul One Can Hide, But Those Which Attack The Body And Destroy The Faculties Cannot Be Concealed.

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.

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.

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.

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

The Man Of Regular Life And Rational Mind Never Despairs.

Better To Be Without Logic Than Without Feeling.

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.

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

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)

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

To Prolong Doubt Was To Prolong Hope.

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

Because When She Failed, I Saw How She Might Have Succeeded. Arrows That Continually Glanced Off From Mr. Rochester's Breast And Fell Harmless At His Feet, Might, I Knew, If Shot By A Surer Hand, Have Quivered Keen In His Proud Heart - Have Called Love Into His Stern Eye, And Softness Into His Sardonic Face, Or Better Still, Without Weapons A Silent Conquest Might Have Been Won.

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

You, Sir, Are The Most Phantom-like Of All; You Are A Mere Dream

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!

As To The Mouth, It Delights At Times In Laughter; It Is Disposed To Impart All That The Brain Conceives; Though I Daresay It Would Be Silent On Much The Heart Experiences. Mobile And Flexible, It Was Never Intended To Be Compressed In The Eternal Silence Of Solitude: It Is A Mouth Which Should Speak Much And Smile Often, And Have Human Affection For Its Interlocutor.

Let Your Performance Do The Thinking.

He Is Not To Them What He Is To Me.

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

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

I Like Rudeness A Great Deal Better Than Flattery.

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

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

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?

It Is A Happy Thing That Time Quells The Longings Of Vengeance And Hushes The Promptings Of Rage And Aversion. I Had Left This Woman In Bitterness And Hate, And I Came Back To Her Now With No Other Emotion Than A Sort Of Ruth For Her Great Sufferings, And Strong Yearning To Forget And Forgive All Injuries - To Be Reconciled And Clasp Hands In Amity.

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.

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

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!

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

I Remembered That The Real World Was Wide, And That A Varied Field Of Hopes And Fears, Of Sensations And Excitments, Awaited Those Who Had The Courage To Go Forth Into It's Expanse, To Seek Real Knowledge Of Life Amidst It's Perils.

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.

There Is A Perverse Mood Of The Mind Which Is Rather Soothed Than Irritated By Misconstruction; And In Quarters Where We Can Never Be Rightly Known, We Take Pleasure, I Think, In Being Consummately Ignored. What Honest Man On Being Casually Taken For A Housebreaker Does Not Feel Rather Tickled Than Vexed At The Mistake?

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.

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

Misery Generates Hate.

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

I Feel Monotony And Death To Be Almost The Same.

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.

I Believe That Creature Is A Changeling: She Is A Perfect Cabinet Of Oddities.

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.

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.

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.

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.

[i]n His Presence I Thoroughly Lived.

What Delusion Has Come Over Me? What Sweet Madness Has Seized Me?

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.

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.

And It Is You, Spirit--with Will And Energy, And Virtue And Purity--that I Want, Not Alone With Your Brittle Frame.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Broken Promises

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.

Make My Happiness--i Will Make Yours.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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!

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

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.

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

He Made Me Love Him Without Looking At Me.

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

Some Of The Best People That Ever Lived Have Been As Destitute As I Am; And If You Are A Christian, You Ought Not To Consider Poverty A Crime.

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.

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

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

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

Your Will Shall Decide Your Destiny.

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.

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.

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

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.

You Are Human And Fallible.

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

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

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. Happiness Is A Glory Shining Far Down Upon Us Out Of Heaven. She Is A Divine Dew Which The Soul, On Certain Of Its Summer Mornings, Feels Dropping Upon It From The Amaranth Bloom And Golden Fruitage Of Paradise.

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

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.

There Was No Possibility Of Taking A Walk That Day.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

To See And Know The Worst Is To Take From Fear Her Main Advantage.

The Word Book Acted As A Transient Stimulus

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

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

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 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.

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

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.

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.

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

'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.'

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