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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?
Charlotte Bronte
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Charlotte Bronte
Age: 38 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 21
Died: 1855
Died: March 31
Novelist
Poet
Thornton
West Yorkshire
Syarŭllotʻŭ Pŭrontʻe
Ш. Бронте
Syarŭllotʻŭ Bŭrontʻe
Xialuodi Bolangte
Шарлотта Бронте
Sharlotta Bronte
Charles Wellesley
Charlotte Bronte
Cārla$15ṭti Pirāṇṭē
Douro
Karlotta Bronte
Mrs. Arthur Bell Nicholls
Tree
Florian Wellesley
Lord Charles Albert
Currer Bell
Charlotte Nicholls
Mrs. A. B. Nicholls
Hsia-lo-ti Po-lang-tʻe
Must
Pure
Contamination
Mind
Source
Inexhaustible
Memories
Exquisite
Peace
Envy
Girl
Treasure
Littles
Memory
Refreshment
Little
Conscience
Blot
Without
Clean
Refreshments
More quotes by 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 could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice me.
Charlotte Bronte
Friends always forget those whom fortune forsakes.
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I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.
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It is good to be attracted out of ourselves, to be forced to take a near view of the sufferings, the privations, the efforts, the difficulties of others.
Charlotte Bronte
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.
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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!
Charlotte Bronte
Nervous alarms should always be communicated, that they may be dissipated.
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You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you because you never felt love. You have both sentiments yet to experience: your soul sleeps the shock is yet to be given which shall waken it.
Charlotte Bronte
... and she held out a pretty gold ring. 'Put it,' she said, 'on the fourth finger of my left hand, and I am yours and you are mine and we shall leave Earth and make our own Heaven yonder.'
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This is a terrible hour, but it is often that darkest point which precedes the rise of day that turn of the year when the icy January wind carries over the waste at once the dirge of departing winter, and the prophecy of coming spring.
Charlotte Bronte
Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre remorse is the poison of life.
Charlotte Bronte
The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator.
Charlotte Bronte
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.
Charlotte Bronte
All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.
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I longed for a power of vision which might overpass that limit which might reach the busy world, towns, regions full of life I had heard of but never seen: that I desired more of practical experience than I possessed more of intercourse with my kind, of acquaintance with variety of character, than was here within my reach.
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Fair as a lily, and not only the pride of life, but the desire of his eyes
Charlotte Bronte
Adversity is a good school.
Charlotte Bronte
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.
Charlotte Bronte
The writer who possesses the creative gift owns something of which he is not always master - something that, at times, strangely wills and works for itself.
Charlotte Bronte