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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.

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
Heart
Would
Exile
Belongs
Presence
Remain
Fate
Rest
Forever

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If he were insane, however, his was a very cool and collected insanity.
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As far as my experience of matrimony goes -- I think it tends to draw you out of, and away from yourself.
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I believe while I tremble I trust while I weep.
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Daydreams are the delusions of the devil.
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There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.
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Writers cannot choose their own mood: with them it is not always hide-tide, nor --thank Heaven!--always Storm.
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He is not to them what he is to me.
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I grant an ugly woman is a blot on the fair face of creation but as to the gentleman, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: let their motto be:Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a flip.
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A beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance.
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I mentally shake hands with you for your answer, despite its inaccuracy. Mr. Rochester
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Poverty, for me, is synonymous with degradation.
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Consistency, madam, is the first of Christian duties.
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The shadows are as important as the light.
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I like this day I like that sky of steel I like the sternness and stillness of the world under this frost.
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But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience?
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Love me, then, or hate me, as you will, I said at last, you have my full and free forgiveness: ask now for God's, and be at peace.
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Reader, I literally married him.
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And with that answer, he left me. I would much rather he had knocked me down.
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I could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice me.
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My love has placed her little hand With noble faith in mine, And vowed that wedlock's sacred band Our nature shall entwine. My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, With me to live -- to die I have at last my nameless bliss: As I love -- loved am I!
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