To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts โ 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 โ at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent โ I am ever tender and true. (Mr Rochester to Jane)
Charlotte BronteYou have introduced a topic on which our natures are at variance - a topic we should never discuss: the very name of love is an apple of discord between us. If the reality were required, what should we do? How should we feel? My dear cousin, abandon your scheme of marriage - forget it.
Charlotte Bronte