What necessity is there to dwell on the Past, when the Present is so much surer-the Future so much brighter? — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
“Take the matter as you find it: ask no questions, utter no remonstrances; it is your best wisdom. You expected bread, and… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“And what is hell? Can you tell me that?” “A pit full of fire.” “And should you like to fall into that… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
“The ease of his manner freed me from painful restraint: the friendly frankness, as correct as cordial, with which he treated me,… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“Biblical promises, heard first in health, but then unheeded, come whispering to the couch of sickness; it is felt that a pitying… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour,… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
“Superstition was with me at that moment, but it was not yet her hour for complete victory.” — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“(But) I learned in time that this benignity, this cordiality, this music, belonged in no shape to me: it was a part… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“My spirits were excited, and with pleasure and ease I talked to him during supper, and for a long time after. There… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“What good it would have done me at that time to have been tossed in the storms of an uncertain struggling like,… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“Reason might be right; yet no wonder we are glad at times to defy her, to rush from under her rod and… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“I had feelings: passive as I lived, little as I spoke, cold as I looked, when I thought of past days, I… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
But this I know; the writer who possesses the creative gift owns something of whichhe is not always mastersomething that at times… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“Thoughtful for Winter’s future sorrow, Its gloom and scarcity; Prescient to-day, of want to-morrow, Toiled quiet Memory. ’Tis she that from each… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“I do not want sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution -- such is not my taste. I wish to foster, not to blight -- to… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should - so hard as… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
My God, whose son, as on this night, took on Him the form of man, and for man vouchsafed to suffer and bleed, controls… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
“A deal of people, Miss, are for trusting all to Providence; but I say Providence will not dispense with the means, though He often… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“This night is not calm; the equinox still struggles in its storms. The wild rains of the day are abated; the great single cloud… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“How dare I, Mrs Reed? How dare I? Because it is the truth. You think I have no feelings, and that I can do… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
“If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed; but the cleverest, the acutest men are often under… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs. With this creed, revenge never worries my heart, degradation… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
When his first-born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were -… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
Talented people almost always know full well the excellence that is in them. — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
“Not one spark of spirit, not one symptom of resistance, would they have shown till the hand of the Corsican bandit had grasped that… — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
