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I can but die... and I believe in God. Let me try and wait His will in silence.

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
Wait
Silence
Waiting
Dies
Trying
Believe

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You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all you are a mere dream
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I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the last.
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Give him enough rope and he will hang himself.
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He is not to them what he is to me.
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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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I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.
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Jane Austin was a complete and most sensible lady, but a very incomplete and rather insensible (not senseless) woman. If this is heresy, I cannot help it.
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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.
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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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Monsieur, sit down listen to me. I am not a heathen, I am not hard-hearted, I am not unchristian, I am not dangerous, as they tell you I would not trouble your faith you believe in God and Christ and the Bible, and so do I.
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They will both be happy, and I do not grudge them their bliss but I groan under my own misery: some of my suffering is very acute. Truly, I ought not to have been born: they should have smothered me at first cry.
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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?
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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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The City seems so much more in earnest: its business, its rush, its roar are such serious things, sights and sounds. The City is getting its living - the West-End but enjoying its pleasure.
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I soon forgot storm in music.
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I believe in some blending of hope and sunshine sweetening the worst lots. I believe that this life is not all neither the beginning nor the end. I believe while I tremble I trust while I weep.
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Too often do reviewers remind us of the mob of Astrologers, Chaldeans, and Soothsayers gathered before 'the writing on the wall' and unable to read the characters or make known the interpretation.
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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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Peril, loneliness, an uncertain future, are not oppressive evils, so long as the frame is healthy and the faculties are employed so long, especially, as Liberty lends us her wings, and Hope guides us by her star.
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Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.
Charlotte Bronte