|
b7a3843
|
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.
|
|
loneliness
self
self-respect
self-esteem
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
4ee2041
|
M]y inner self moved; my spirit shook its always-fettered wings half loose. I had a sudden feeling as if I, who never yet truly lived, were at last about to taste life.
|
|
hope
charlotte-bronte
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
be583e2
|
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.
|
|
suffering
miss-marchmont
villette
selfish
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
85a7aaa
|
Well had Solomon said,'Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
8c33494
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
39c3150
|
You know full well as I do the value of sisters' affections: There is nothing like it in this world.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
39e2096
|
it is madness in al 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 into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.
|
|
women-s-strength
pride
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
72164ed
|
Remorse is the poison of life.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
59778e3
|
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 voic..
|
|
reason
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
8c99b05
|
I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.
|
|
mrs-reed
school
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
cf93a14
|
Little Jane's love would have been my best reward, without it, my heart is broken.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
cafa37d
|
That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life; that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies, and swallowed poison as if it were nectar.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
821e9bf
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
889f191
|
I stood lonely enough, but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed: it did not oppress me much.
|
|
loneliness
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
2e740d9
|
Strange that grief should now almost choke me, because another human being's eye has failed to greet mine.
|
|
sadness
love
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
ac5fe52
|
It was not without a certain wild pleasure I ran before the wind, delivering my trouble of mind to the measureless air-torrent thundering through space. Descending the laurel walk, I faced the wreck of a chestnut-tree; it stood up, black and riven: the trunk, split down the centere, gasped ghastly. The cloven halves were not broken for each other, for the firm base and strong roots kept them unsundered below; through communtiy of vitality w..
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
20d10e4
|
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 comparative..
|
|
loneliness
love
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
418705c
|
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.
|
|
influence
love
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
4bbc191
|
I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many-coloured, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy--dreams where, amidst unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him--the hop..
|
|
passion
love
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
7820733
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
343362d
|
Absolutely, sir! Oh, you need not be jealous! I wanted to tease you a little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief. But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I DO love you, you would be proud and content. 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 for ever.
|
|
love
jane-eyre
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
4b86c82
|
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...
|
|
rochester
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
8c61c62
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
6089d3f
|
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.
|
|
love
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
7067cec
|
Evening Solace 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. And days may pass in gay confusion, And nights in rosy riot fly, While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion, The memory of the Past may die. But, there are hours of lonely musing, Such as in evening silence come, When, soft as birds their pinions closing, ..
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
08884ec
|
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.
|
|
illness
marriage
strength
happiness
love
safety
sickness
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
9cfe685
|
I think I must admit so fair a guest when it asks entrance to my heart.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
0263960
|
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!
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
e5e84f5
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
027b126
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
6ff122a
|
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.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
2c24db3
|
That to begin with; let respect be the foundation, affection the first floor, love the superstructure.
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
e12acc4
|
Oh, mention it! If I storm, you have the art of weeping." "Mr. Rochester, I must leave you." "For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair -- which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face -- which looks feverish?" "I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes." "Of course: I told you you should. I pass over the madness..
|
|
passion
torn
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
f3508d8
|
Great pains were taken to hide chains with flowers
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
a23076a
|
So you shun me? - you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate: I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, tha..
|
|
pain
crying
tears
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
4a06aa1
|
I see you are in a dilemma, and one of a peculiar and difficult nature. Two paths lie before you; you conscientiously wish to choose the right one, even though it be the most steep, straight, and rugged; but you do not know which is the right one; you cannot decide whether duty and religion command you to go out into the cold and friendless world, and there to earn your living by governess drudgery, or whether they enjoin your continued sta..
|
|
|
Charlotte Bronte |
|
6e9754f
|
Miss Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy: she was too inferior to excite feeling. Pardon the seeming paradox; I mean what I say. She was very showy, but she was not genuine; she had a fine person, many brilliant attainments, but her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature; nothing bloomed spontaneously on that soil; no unforced natural fruit delighted by its freshness. She was not good; she was not original; she used to repeat sounding phr..
|
|
character-description
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
ef7300b
|
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?
|
|
jane-eyre
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
5e58518
|
Poetry destroyed? Genius banished? No! Mediocrity, no: do not let envy prompt you to the thought. No; they not only live, but reign, and redeem: and without their divine influence spread everywhere, you would be in hell--the hell of your own meanness.
|
|
poetry
meanness
genius
mediocrity
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
a5a38a5
|
Come, Paul!" she reiterated, her eye grazing me with its hard ray like a steel stylet. She pushed against her kinsman. I thought he receded; I thought he would go. Pierced deeper than I could endure, made now to feel what defied suppression, I cried - "My heart will break!" What I felt seemed literal heart-break; but the seal of another fountain yielded under the strain: one breath from M. Paul, the whisper, "Trust me!" lifted a load, opene..
|
|
jealousy
love
lucy-snowe
villette
goodbyes
separation
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
0d99300
|
Take the matter as you find it: ask no questions, utter no remonstrances; it is your best wisdom. You expected bread, and you have got a stone: break your teeth on it, and don't shriek because the nerves are martyrized; do not doubt that your mental stomach--if you have such a thing--is strong as an ostrich's; the stone will digest. You held out your hand for an egg, and fate put into it a scorpion. Show no consternation: close your fingers..
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
6617f06
|
Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the hopes, wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night-- of the general state of mind which I have indulged for nearly a fortnight past; Reason having come forward and told in her own quiet way , a plain, unvarnished tale, showing how I had rejected the real, and rabidly devoured the ideal;-- I pronounced judgment to this effect:-- That a greater fool than Jane Eyre ..
|
|
lies
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
595849b
|
For I too liked reading, thought of a frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious or substantial.
|
|
jane-eyre
|
Charlotte Brontë |
|
b10e757
|
I grieve to leave Thornfield: I love Thornfield - I love it, because I have lived in it a full and delightful life, -momentarily at least. I have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I have not been buried with inferior minds, and excluded from every glimpse of communion with what is bright and energetic, and high. I have talked, face to face, with what I reverence; with what I delight in, -with an original, a vigorous, an expan..
|
|
|
Charlotte Brontë |