Neither birth nor sex forms a limit to genius.

I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.

It would not be wicked to love me." "It would to obey you.

What necessity is there to dwell on the Past, when the Present is so much surer-the Future so much brighter?

A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play.

I loved him very much - more than I could trust myself to say - more than words had power to express." - Jane Eyre

I stood lonely enough, but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed: it did not oppress me much.