This is a terrible hour, but it is often that darkest point which precedes the rise of day; that turn of the year when the icy January wind carries o… - Charlotte Brontë

To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts — when they open to me a perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps imbecility, coarseness, and ill-temper: but to the clear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break — at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent — I am ever tender and true. (Mr Rochester to Jane)

I liked my name pronounced by your lips in a grateful, happy accent.

I shall be called discontented. I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to pain sometimes.