My Rest Might Have Been Blissful Enough,

I Could Not Answer The Ceaseless Inward Question-why I Thus Suffered; Now, At The Distance Of-i Will Not Say How Many Years, I See It Clearly.

A Ruffled Mind Makes A Restless Pillow.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

I Believe While I Tremble; I Trust While I Weep.

Thank You, Mr. Rochester, For Your Great Kindness. I Am Strangely Glad To Get Back Again To You: And Wherever You Are Is My Home—my Only Home.