It is a happy thing that time quells the longings of vengeance and hushes the promptings of rage and aversion. I had left this woman in bitterness and hate, and I came back to her now with no other emotion than a sort of ruth for her great sufferings, and strong yearning to forget and forgive all injuries - to be reconciled and clasp hands in amity.
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.
Well had Solomon said,'Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.
I wished critics would judge me as an author, not as a woman.
. . . it strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking on the necessity of death.
~Do you like him much? ~I told you I like him a little. Where is the use of caring for him so very much? He is full of faults. ~Is he? ~All boys are. ~More than girls? ~Very likely. Wise people say it is folly to think anyboy perfect, and as to likes and diskiles, we should be friendly to all, and worship none.
Misery generates hate.
Silence is of different kinds, and breathes different meanings.
What the deuce is to do now?
Great pains were taken to hide chains with flowers
Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the hopes, wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night-- of the general state of mind which I have indulged for nearly a fortnight past; Reason having come forward and told in her own quiet way , a plain, unvarnished tale, showing how I had rejected the real, and rabidly devoured the ideal;-- I pronounced judgment to this effect:-- That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life: that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies, and swallowed the poison as if it were nectar.
I must, then, repeat continually that we are forever sundered - and yet, while I breathe and think, I must love him. ' - Jane Eyre
Liberty lends us her wings and Hope guides us by her star.
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.
Sir,' I interrupted him, 'you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady; you speak of her with hate --- with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel --- she cannot help being mad.
There's no use in weeping, Though we are condemned to part: There's such a thing as keeping, A remembrance in one's heart.
Now for the hitch in Jane's character,' he said at last, speaking more calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. 'The reel of silk has run smoothly enough so far; but I always knew there would come a knot and a puzzle: here it is. Now for vexation, and exasperation, and endless trouble!
Amid the worry of a self- condemnatory soliloquy, his demeanour seemed grave, perhaps cold, both to me and his mother. And yet there was no bad feeling, no malice, no rancour, no littleness in his countenance, beautiful with a man's best beauty, even in its depression. When I placed his chair at the table, which I hastened to do, anticipating the servant, and when I handed him his tea, which I did with trembling care, he said: "Thank you, Lucy," in as kindly a tone of his full pleasant voice as ever my ear welcomed.
I wish I had only offered you a sovereign instead of ten pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I’ve a use for it. ' 'And so have I, sir,' I returned, putting my hands and my purse behind me. 'I could not spare the money on any account. ' 'Little niggard!' said he, 'refusing me a pecuniary request! Give me five pounds, Jane. ' 'Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence. ' 'Just let me look at the cash. ' 'No, sir; you are not to be trusted.
The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed.