"Love me, then, or hate me, as you will," I said at last, "you have my full and free forgiveness: ask now for God's, and be at peace." - Charlotte Brontë

Unlawful pleasure, trenching on another’s rights, is delusive and envenomed pleasure—its hollowness disappoints at the time, its poison cruelly tortures afterwards, its effects deprave forever.

Cheerfulness, it would appear,
is a matter which depends fully as much on the state
of things within,
as on the state of things without and around us.

There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.