Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
What necessity is there to dwell on the Past, when the Present is so much surer-the Future so much brighter?
But afterwards, is there nothing more for me in life - no true home - nothing to be dearer to me than myself?
Writers cannot choose their own mood: with them it is not always hide-tide, nor --thank Heaven!--always Storm.
The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.
Reserved people often really need the frank discussion of their sentiments and griefs more than the expansive.
It is a long way off, sir" "From what Jane?" "From England and from Thornfield: and ___" "Well?" "From you, sir
A beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance.
I don't call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.
The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious, but still a truthful interpreter - in the eye.
I can only say with deeper sincerity and fuller significance what I have always said in theory - Wait God's will.
If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
I loved him very much - more than I could trust myself to say - more than words had power to express." - Jane Eyre
If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
The human and fallible should not arrogate a power with which the divine and perfect alone can be safely intrusted.
Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.
And it is you, spirit--with will and energy, and virtue and purity--that I want, not alone with your brittle frame.
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 care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.
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! will you hear reason?' (he stooped and approached his lips to my ear) 'because, if you won't, I'll try violence.
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 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's no use in weeping, Though we are condemned to part: There's such a thing as keeping, A remembrance in one's heart.
But solitude is sadness.' 'Yes; it is sadness. Life, however, has worse than that. Deeper than melancholy lies heart-break.
I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime; I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the last.
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 desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing.
For I too liked reading, thought of a frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious or substantial.
Friendship however is a plant which cannot be forced -- true friendship is no gourd spring up in a night and withering in a day.
I must, then, repeat continually that we are forever sundered - and yet, while I breathe and think, I must love him.' - Jane Eyre
Wise people say it is folly to think anybody perfect; and as to likes and dislikes, we should be friendly to all, and worship none
There is, in lovers, a certain infatuation of egotism; they will have a witness of their happiness, cost that witness what it may.
Whatever my powers--feminine or the contrary--God had given them, and I felt resolute to be ashamed of no faculty of his bestowal.
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.
'My bride is here,' Rochester said , again drawing me to him, 'because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?'
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.
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 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.
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.
It is 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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!
Feeling without judgement is a washy draught indeed; but judgement untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition.
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.
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.