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 BRONTEFlirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.
More Charlotte Bronte Quotes
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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 -
You have rather the look of another world. I marvelled where you had got that sort of face.
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 -
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 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 -
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!
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
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 -
It is a pity that doing one’s best does not always answer.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Tact, if it be genuine, never sleeps.
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 -
You transfix me quite.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE -
Shake me off, then, sir–push me away; for I’ll not leave you of my own accord.
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 -
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