Quote

We wove a web in childhood, A web of sunny air We dug a spring in infancy Of water pure and fair We sowed in youth a mustard seed, We cut an almond rod We are now grown up to riper age— Are they withered in the sod?

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
Pure
Seeds
Sod
Age
Fairs
Almonds
Water
Fair
Mustard
Air
Withered
Spring
Infancy
Riper
Childhood
Sunny
Wove
Cutting
Seed
Sowed
Youth
Grown
Almond

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I seem to have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms: you wandered out of the fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?
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Is there not a terrible hollowness, mockery, want, craving, in that existence which is given away to others, for want of something of your own to bestow it on?
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Cheerfulness, it would appear, is a matter which depends fully as much on the state of things within, as on the state of things without and around us.
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On the contrary, I'm a universal patriot, if you could understand me rightly: my country is the world.
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The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious, but still a truthful interpreter - in the eye.
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Better to try all things and find all empty, than to try nothing and leave your life a blank.
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Little Jane's love would have been my best reward, without it, my heart is broken.
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[O]ur honeymoon will shine our life long: its beams will only fade over your grave or mine.
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Men judge us by the success of our efforts. God looks at the efforts themselves.
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As to the thoughts, they are elfish. Those eyes in the Evening Star you must have seen in a dream.
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Shake me off, then, sir--push me away for I'll not leave you of my own accord.
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I like to see flowers growing, but when they are gathered, they cease to please. I look on them as things rootless and perishable their likeness to life makes me sad. I never offer flowers to those I love I never wish to receive them from hands dear to me.
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God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness -- to glory?
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I knew you would do me good in some way, at some time--I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you.
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You have rather the look of another world. I marvelled where you had got that sort of face.
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I can but die... and I believe in God. Let me try and wait His will in silence.
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It does good to no woman to be flattered [by a man] who does not intend to marry her and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatuus-like, into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.
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Neither birth nor sex forms a limit to genius.
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I sat down and tried to rest. I could not though I had been on foot all day, I could not now repose an instant I was too much excited. A phase of my life was closing tonight, a new one opening tomorrow: impossible to slumber in the interval I must watch feverishly while the change was being accomplished.
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It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action and they will make it if they cannot find it.
Charlotte Bronte