Las personas reservadas muchas veces necesitan más que las expansivas hablar abiertamente de sus sentimientos y penas. Incluso el estoico más firme es humano, e irrumpir con valor en el mar silencioso de sus almas, a menudo supone hacerles el mayor favor
Charlotte BrontëTags: jane-eyre charlote-brönte
But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience?
Charlotte BrontëTags: charlotte-brontë jane-eyre
I recalled that inward sensation I had experienced: for I could recall it, with all its unspeakable strangeness. I recalled the voice I had heard; again I questioned whence it came, as vainly as before: it seemed in ME--not in the external world. I asked was it a mere nervous impression--a delusion? I could not conceive or believe: it was more like an inspiration. The wondrous shock of feeling had come like the earthquake which shook the foundations of Paul and Silas's prison; it had opened the doors of the soul's cell and loosed its bands--it had wakened it out of its sleep, whence it sprang trembling, listening, aghast; then vibrated thrice a cry on my startled ear, and in my quaking heart and through my spirit, which neither feared nor shook, but exulted as if in joy over the success of one effort it had been privileged to make, independent of the cumbrous body.
Charlotte BrontëTags: feminism charlotte-brontë jane-eyre
مستر روتشيستر، إذا كنت قد عملتُ في أيما يوم من أيام حياتي عملاً صالحاً... إذا كنت قد راودتني في أيما يوم من أيام حياتي فكرة صالحة.. إذا كنتُ قد صلَّيتُ ذات مرة صلاة صادقة بريئة.. إذا كنتُ قد تمنَّيت أمنية فاضلة.. فإني أعتبر أني فُزتُ الآن بثواب ذلك كله. فلأن أكون زوجتك يعني عندي، أن أنعم بأوفر قسط من السعادة أستطيع بلوغه في هذه الدنيا.
Charlotte BrontëTags: love marriage proposal jane-eyre حب زواج جين-أيير
Mr. Rochester never courted Jane Eyre," Tessa pointed out.
"No, he dressed up as a woman and terrified the poor girl out of her wits. Is that what you want?"
"You would make a very ugly woman."
"I would not. I would be stunning.
Tags: humor jane-eyre william-herondale tessa-gray
Tessa exploded "I am not asking you to maul me in the Whispering Gallery! By the Angel, Will, would you stop being so polite?!"
He looked at her in amazement. "But wouldn't you rather-"
"I would not rather. I don't want you to be polite! I want you to be Will! I don't want you to indicate points of architectural interest to me as if you were a Baedecker guide! I want you to say dreadfully mad, funny things, and make up songs and be-" The Will I fell in love with, she almost said. "And be Will," she finished instead. "Or I shall strike you with my umbrella."
"I am trying to court you," Will said in exasperation. "Court you properly. That's what all this has been about. You know that, don't you?"
"Mr. Rochester never courted Jane Eyre," Tessa pointed out.
"No, he dressed up as a woman and terrified the poor girl out of her wits. Is that what you want?"
"You would make a very ugly woman."
"I would not. I would be stunning."
Tessa laughed. "There," she said. "There is Will. Isn't that better? Don't you think so?"
"I don't know," Will said, eyeing her. I'm afraid to answer that. I've heard that when I speak, it makes American women wish to strike me with umbrellas."
Tessa laughed again, and then they were both laughing, their smothered giggles bouncing off the walls of the Whispering Gallery. After that, things were decidedly easier between them, and Will's smile when he helped her down from the carriage on their return home, was bright and real.
Tags: humor love courting jane-eyre umbrellas william-herondale tessa-grey p-522
How different this world to the one about which I used to read, and in which I used to live! This is one peopled by demons, phantoms, vampires, ghouls, boggarts, and nixies. Names of things of which I knew nothing are now so familiar that the creatures themselves appear to have real existence. The Arabian Nights are not more fantastic than our gospels; and Lempriere would have found ours a more marvelous world to catalog than the classical mythical to which he devoted his learning. Ours is a world of luprachaun and clurichaune, deev and cloolie, and through the maze of mystery I have to thread my painful way, now learning how to distinguish oufe from pooka, and nis from pixy; study long screeds upon the doings of effreets and dwergers, or decipher the dwaul of delirious monks who have made homunculi from refuse. Waking or sleeping, the image of some uncouth form is always present to me. What would I not give for a volume by the once despised 'A. L. O. E' or prosy Emma Worboise? Talk of the troubles of Winifred Bertram or Jane Eyre, what are they to mine? Talented authoresses do not seem to know that however terrible it may be to have as a neighbour a mad woman in a tower, it is much worse to have to live in a kitchen with a crocodile. This elementary fact has escaped the notice of writers of fiction; the re-statement of it has induced me to reconsider my decision as to the most longed-for book; my choice now is the Swiss Family Robinson. In it I have no doubt I should find how to make even the crocodile useful, or how to kill it, which would be still better.
("Mysterious Maisie")
Tags: monsters fairy jane-eyre folklore occult crocodile creature fae faerie a-l-o-e emma-jane-worboise swiss-family-robinson
اصلاً هم جوان خوشقیافه ندیده بودم و هیچوقت در عمرم با جوان خوشقیافهای حرف نزده بودم. قدر و احترامی که برای زیبایی، آراستگی، جوانمردی و جذابیت قائل بودم صرفاً جنبه ذهنی داشت. اما اگر چنین خصوصیتهایی را در هیئت مردانهای میدیدم خودبهخود میفهمیدم که با هیچ خصوصیتی در من سنخیت ندارند و نمیتوانند هم داشته باشند، و بلافاصله رویم را برمیگرداندم، همانطور که از آتش و آذرخش رویم را برمیگرداندم، یا هر چیز دیگری که تابناک میبود و چشم را میزد.
Charlotte BrontëTags: jane-eyre
Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness – to glory?
Charlotte BrontëThe hiss of the quenched element, the breakage of the pitcher which I had flung from my hand when I had emptied it, and, above all, the splash of the shower-bath I had liberally bestowed, roused Mr Rochester at last though it was dark, I knew he was awake; because I heard him fulminating strange anathemas at finding himself lying in a pool of water. 'Is there a flood?' he cried
Charlotte BrontëTags: fire jane-eyre flood rochester
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