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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTEFor I too liked reading, thought of a frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious or substantial.
More Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
You transfix me quite.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I am no bird and no net ensnares me
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
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 -
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 -
Reader, I married him.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
He was the first to recognise me, and to love what he saw.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
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 -
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 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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
You, Jane, I must have you for my own–entirely my own.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE