The man of regular life and rational mind never despairs.

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.

Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.

My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it.

I both wished and feared to see Mr. Rochester on the day which followed this sleepless night. I wanted to hear his voice again, yet feared to meet his eye.

Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you are), you don't know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. If you were mad, do you think I should hate you?

But afterwards, is there nothing more for me in life - no true home - nothing to be dearer to me than myself?