Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Brontëwas an English novelist and poet, the eldest of the three Brontë sisters who survived into adulthood and whose novels have become classics of English literature. She first published her worksunder the pen name Currer Bell...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth21 April 1816
alive doe birth
Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.
lying sky eden
My fine visions are all very well, but I must not forget they are absolutely unreal. I have a rosy sky and a green flowery Eden in my brain; but without, I am perfectly aware, lies at my feet a rough tract to travel, and around me gather black tempests to encounter.
tired years eight
I tired of the routine of eight years in one afternoon.
flower eden rose
My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the heath for her; out of a sullen hollow in a livid hillside her mind could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many and dear delights; and not the least and best-loved was – liberty.
morning amount prodigious
Prodigious was the amount of life I lived that morning.
forgiveness time revenge
Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.
thinking performances
Let your performance do the thinking.
morning spring night
My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden.
heartbreak remembrance use
There's no use in weeping, Though we are condemned to part: There's such a thing as keeping, A remembrance in one's heart...
want answers enough
You ask rather too many questions. I have given you answers enough for the present: now I want to read.
grief eye strange
Strange that grief should now almost choke me, because another human being's eye has failed to greet mine.
i-love-him night agony
I thought I loved him when he went away; I love him now in another degree: he is more my own. [ . . . ] Oh! a thousand weepers, praying in agony on waiting shores, listened for that voice, but it was not uttered--not uttered till; when the hush came, some could not feel it: till, when the sun returned, his light was night to some!
distance loneliness farewell
Whatever the cause, I could not meet his sunshine with cloud. If this were my last moment with him, I would not waste it in forced, unnatural distance. I loved him well - too well not to smite out of my path even Jealousy herself, when she would have obstructed a kind farewell. A cordial word from his lips, or a gentle look from his eyes, would do me good, for all the span of life that remained to me; it would be comfort in the last strait of loneliness; I would take it - I would taste the elixir, and pride should not spill the cup.
inexperience youth blind
But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience?