Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs.— Charlotte Bronte
The most bashful Charlotte Bronte quotes that are free to learn and impress others
The idea of seeing the sea - of being near it - watching its changes by sunrise, sunset, moonlight, and noonday - in calm, perhaps in storm - fills and satisfies my mind.
A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow.
The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed.
Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs.
Peril, loneliness, an uncertain future, are not oppressive evils, so long as the frame is healthy and the faculties are employed; so long, especially, as Liberty lends us her wings, and Hope guides us by her star.
I knew you would do me good in some way, at some time--I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you.
Crying does not indicate that you are weak.
Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.
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.
There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.
Whatever my powers--feminine or the contrary--God had given them, and I felt resolute to be ashamed of no faculty of his bestowal.
I am not an angel,' I asserted; 'and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me - for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.
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!
Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time;
as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.
There is, I am convinced, no picture that conveys in all its dreadfulness, a vision of sorrow, despairing, remediless, supreme. If I could paint such a picture, the canvas would show only a woman looking down at her empty arms.
Good-night, my-" He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.
I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory.
Little girl, a memory without blot of contamination must be an exquisite treasure-an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?
My future husband was becoming to me my whole world;
and more than the world: almost my hope of heaven. He stood between me and every thought of religion, as an eclipse intervenes between man and the broad sun. I could not, in those days, see God for His creature: of whom I had made an idol.
Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!
Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.
Look twice before you leap.
I knew, you would do me good, in some way, at some time;
- I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not- (again he stopped)- did not (he proceeded hastily) strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing.
I am not an angel," I asserted; "and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself.
To the dear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break... I am ever tender and true.
'My bride is here,' Rochester said , again drawing me to him, 'because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?'
You had no right to be born; for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself, as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some other person's strength.
The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.
Remorse is the poison of life.
Feeling without judgement is a washy draught indeed;
but judgement untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition.
Conventionality is not morality.
If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
What you want to ignite in others must first burn inside yourself.
If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.
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.
The shadows are as important as the light.
Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.
We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence.
Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.
Oh! that gentleness! how far more potent is it than force!
I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal--as we are!
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!
There is, in lovers, a certain infatuation of egotism;
they will have a witness of their happiness, cost that witness what it may.
Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
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.
But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience?
I would always rather be happy than dignified.
My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the heath for her; out of a sullen hollow in a livid hillside her mind could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many and dear delights; and not the least and best-loved was – liberty.
But afterwards, is there nothing more for me in life - no true home - nothing to be dearer to me than myself?
My hopes were all dead --- struck with a subtle doom, such as, in one night, fell on all the first-born in the land of Egypt. I looked on my cherished wishes, yesterday so blooming and glowing; they lay stark, chill, livid corpses that could never revive.
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.