Shake me off, then, sir–push me away; for I’ll not leave you of my own accord.
CHARLOTTE BRONTEI like to see flowers growing, but when they are gathered, they cease to please. I look on them as things rootless and perishable; their likeness to life makes me sad. I never offer flowers to those I love; I never wish to receive them from hands dear to me.
More Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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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.
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 -
That to begin with; let respect be the foundation, affection the first floor, love the superstructure.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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 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 -
You transfix me quite.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I feel monotony and death to be almost the same.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Oh! that gentleness! how far more potent is it than force!
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Poverty, for me, is synonymous with degradation.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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.
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 -
Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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?
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they had nor could have sympathy with anything in me.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE