To Talk To Each Other Is But

If There Is One Notion I Hate More Than Another, It Is That Of Marriage - I Mean Marriage In The Vulgar, Weak Sense, As A Mere Matter Of Sentiment.

Am I Hideous, Jane? Very, Sir: You Always Were, You Know.

All These Relics Gave... Thornfield Hall The Aspect Of A Home Of The Past: A Shrine To Memory. I Liked The Hush, The Gloom, The Quaintness Of These Retreats In The Day; But I By No Means Coveted A Night's Repose On One Of Those Wide And Heavy Beds: Shut In, Some Of Them, With Doors Of Oak; Shaded, Others, With Wrought Old-english Hangings Crusted With Thick Work, Portraying Effigies Of Strange Flowers, And Stranger Birds, And Strangest Human Beings, All Which Would Have Looked Strange, Indeed, By The Pallid Gleam Of Moonlight.

I Thank My Maker, That In The Midst Of Judgment He Has Remembered Mercy. I Humbly Entreat My Redeemer To Give Me Strength To Lead Henceforth A Purer Life Than I Have Done Hitherto.

The Soul, Fortunately, Has An Interpreter - Often An Unconscious, But Still A Truthful Interpreter - In The Eye.