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 BRONTEThere is, in lovers, a certain infatuation of egotism; they will have a witness of their happiness, cost that witness what it may.
More Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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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 -
I am no bird and no net ensnares me
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word as in many.
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 -
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.
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 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 -
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 -
What you want to ignite in others must first burn inside yourself.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I mean that I value vision, and dread being struck stone blind.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I think you will learn to be natural with me, as I find it impossible to be conventional with you
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I 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.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Mademoiselle is a fairy,” he said, whispering mysteriously.
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