“Who told you I was called Carl David?" "A little bird, Monsieur." "Does it fly from me to you? Then one can… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“I will tell you it is my neck you are putting in peril; for whatever is yours is, in a dearer and… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“This harsh little man — this pitiless censor — gathers up all your poor scattered sins of vanity, your luckless chiffon of… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
