I Could Not Help It: The Restlessness

Oh Madam, When You Put Bread And Cheese, Instead Of Burnt Porridge, Into These Children's Mouths, You May Indeed Feed Their Vile Bodies, But You Little Think How You Starve Their Immortal Souls!

I Am Not An Angel,' I Asserted; 'and I Will Not Be One Till I Die: I Will Be Myself. Mr. Rochester, You Must Neither Expect Nor Exact Anything Celestial Of Me - For You Will Not Get It, Any More Than I Shall Get It Of You: Which I Do Not At All Anticipate.

I Am Not An Angel," I Asserted; "and I Will Not Be One Till I Die: I Will Be Myself.

I Must, Then, Repeat Continually That We Are Forever Sundered - And Yet, While I Breathe And Think, I Must Love Him.' - Jane Eyre

A Depressing And Difficult Passage Has Prefaced Every Page I Have Turned In Life.