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
bitter draught feeling feelings human judgment
Feeling without judgment is a washy draught indeed; but judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition.
bitter draught feeling human judgment
Feeling without judgment is a washy draught indeed; but judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition
truthful
The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter -- often an unconscious, but still a truthful interpreter -- in the eye.
brother exercise men
Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags.
reason should strikes
When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should - so hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again.
slave
Be a governess! Better be a slave at once!
british-novelist build love rather sake sure
If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.
cannot human ought vain
It is 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.
knew might painfully rest
Ever after that I knew what I was for him; and what I might be for the rest of the world, I ceased painfully to care.
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.