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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTEIt is a pity that doing one’s best does not always answer.
More Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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I am anchored on a resolve you cannot shake. My heart, my conscience shall dispose of my hand – they only. Know this at last.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Reader, I married him.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Poverty, for me, is synonymous with degradation.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
My home is humble and unattractive to strangers, but to me it contains what I shall find nowhere else in the world – the … affection which brothers and sisters feel for each other.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
The cool peace and dewy sweetness of the night filled me with a mood of hope: not hope on any definite point, but a general sense of encouragement and heart-ease.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Remorse is the poison of life.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
It would not be wicked to love me.” “It would to obey you.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Oh madam, when you put bread and cheese, instead of burnt porridge, into these children’s mouths, you may indeed feed their vile bodies, but you little think how you starve their immortal souls!
CHARLOTTE BRONTE