Wearily she went to bed, wearily she arose in four or five hours' time. But with the morning came hope, and a brighter view of things.

How different men were to women!

I never did write a biography, and I don't exactly know how to set about it; you see I have to be accurate and keep to the facts, a most difficult thing for a writer of fiction.

Neither loss of father, nor loss of mother, dear as she was to Mr Thornton, could have poisoned the remembrance of the weeks, the days, the hours, when a walk of two miles, every step of which was pleasant, as it brought him nearer and nearer to her, took him to her sweet presence - every step of which was rich, as each recurring moment that bore him away from her made him recal some fresh grace in her demeanour, or pleasant pungency in her character.

I'll not listen to reason... reason always means what someone else has got to say.

Trust a girl of sixteen for knowing well if she is pretty; concerning her plainness she may be ignorant.

I look at [books] as a child looks at cakes - with glittering eyes and a watering mouth, imagining the pleasure that awaits him.