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The idea of seeing the sea - of being near it - watching its changes by sunrise, sunset, moonlight, and noonday - in calm, perhaps in storm - fills and satisfies my mind.

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
Ocean
Sunrise
Perhaps
Sunset
Seeing
Near
Idea
Storm
Ideas
Calm
Noonday
Mind
Watching
Satisfies
Sea
Moonlight
Changes
Fills

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When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart.
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Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.
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You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all you are a mere dream
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You transfix me quite.
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I was no pope - I could not boast infallibility.
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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, Jane, I must have you for my own--entirely my own.
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In sunshine, in prosperity, the flowers are very well but how many wet days are there in life—November seasons of disaster, when a man's hearth and home would be cold indeed, without the clear, cheering gleam of intellect.
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Life is so constructed, that the event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
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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!
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I can only say with deeper sincerity and fuller significance what I have always said in theory - Wait God's will.
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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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Unlawful pleasure, trenching on another's rights, is delusive and envenomed pleasure—its hollowness disappoints at the time, its poison cruelly tortures afterwards, its effects deprave forever.
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There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.
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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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It is a long way off, sir From what Jane? From England and from Thornfield: and ___ Well? From you, sir
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The human and fallible should not arrogate a power with which the divine and perfect alone can be safely intrusted.
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Life is still life, whatever its pangs our eyes and ears and their use remain with us, though the prospect of what pleases be wholly withdrawn, and the sound of what consoles must be silenced.
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He is not to them what he is to me, I thought: he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine- I am sure he is- I feel akin to him- I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.
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I don't wish to treat you like an inferior: that is (correcting himself), I claim only such superiority as must result from twenty years' difference in age and a century's advance in experience.
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