I Believe she thought I had forgotten my station; and yours, sir.' 'Station! Station!-- your station is in my heart, and on the necks of those who would insult you, now or hereafter.

Such is the imperfect nature of man! such spots are there on the disc of the clearest planet; and eyes like Miss Scatcherd's can only see those minute defects, and are blind to the full brightness of the orb.

It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.

He made me love him without looking at me.

I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.

I mentally shake hands with you for your answer, despite its inaccuracy." Mr. Rochester

There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.