I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma’am, and everybody else, will now think me wicked.””We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to act as a good girl, and...

I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority...

You have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose then, your heart has been weeping blood?

If he does go, the change will be doleful. Suppose he should be absent spring, summer, and autumn: how joyless sunshine and fine days will seem!

My feelings towards it can only be paralleled by that of a doting parent towards an idiot child.

Poverty, for me, is synonymous with degradation.

Two hot, close rooms thus became my world; and a crippled old woman, my mistress, my friend, my all. Her service was my duty – her pain, my suffering – her relief, my hope –...

His veins were dark with a vivid belladonna tincture, the essence of jealousy.

It does good to no woman to be flattered [by a man] who does not intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which,...

has forewarned me. Daily he announces more distinctly, ‘Surely I come quickly!’ and hourly I more eagerly respond, ‘Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!

I am not an angel,” I asserted; “and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself.

I believe – I daily find it proved – that we can get nothing in this world worth keeping, not so much as a principle or a conviction, except out of purifying flame, or through...

Belgium! name unromantic and unpoetic, yet name that whenever uttered has in my ear a sound, in my heart an echo, such as no other assemblage of syllables, however sweet or classic, can produce. Belgium!...

This little man was of the order of beings who must not be opposed, unless you possessed an all-dominant force sufficient to crush him at once.

Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear.

Am I a liar in your eyes?” he asked passionately. “Little skeptic, you shall be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know. What love has she for me? None:...

Childish and slender creature! It seemed as if a linnet had hopped to my foot and proposed to bear me on its tiny wing.

Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.

Writers cannot choose their own mood: with them it is not always hide-tide, nor –thank Heaven!–always Storm.

I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to pain sometimes.

No: I shall not marry Samuel Fawthrop Wynne.””I ask why? I must have a reason. In all respects he is more than worthy of you.”She stood on the hearth; she was pale as the white...

I replied that I did not quite know what my ailment had been, but that I had certainly suffered a good deal especially in mind. Further, on this subject, I did not consider it advisable...

But when one does not complain, and when one wants to master oneself with a tyrant’s grip — one’s faculties rise in revolt — and one pays for outward calm with an almost unbearable inner...

How can it be that Jane is with me, and says she loves me? Will she not depart as suddenly as she came? To-morrow, I fear I shall find her no more.

I sat down and tried to rest. I could not; though I had been on foot all day, I could not now repose an instant; I was too much excited. A phase of my life...

Take the matter as you find it ask no questions, utter no remonstrances; it is your best wisdom. You expected bread and you have got a stone: break your teeth on it, and don’t shriek...

Friendship however is a plant which cannot be forced — true friendship is no gourd spring up in a night and withering in a day.

This pure little drop from a pure little source was too sweet: it penetrated deep, and subdued the heart

All the room darkened and my heart again sank; inexpressible sadness weighed it down

Never!” declared Reason.I groaned under her bitter sternness. Never – never – oh, hard word! This hag, this Reason, would not let me look up, or smile, or hope; she could not rest unless I...

I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime; I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the last.

No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and...

You would say you don’t see it: at least I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-by, what you express with that organ, I am quick at interpreting its language).

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....

Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness – to glory?

She sang, as requested. There was much about love in the ballad: faithful love that refused to abandon its object; love that disaster could not shake; love that, in calamity, waxed fonder, in poverty clung...

I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitments, awaited those who had the courage to go forth into it’s expanse, to seek...

Jane, I never meant to wound you thus…Will you ever forgive me?”Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot.

Who are you, Miss Snowe?”…”Who am I indeed? Perhaps a personage in disguise.

Some have won a wild delight,By daring wilder sorrow;Could I gain thy love to-night,I’d hazard death to-morrow.

Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.

I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading. It vexes me to choose another guide.

God surely did not create us, and cause us to live, with the sole end of wishing always to die. I believe, in my heart, we were intended to prize life and enjoy it, so...

I write because I cannot NOT write.

Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, outcast as I was; and I, who from man could anticipate only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to her with filial fondness. To-night at...

Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa’s park gates: nor to go even so far without mama’s permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their...

Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is weak and silly to say you cannot bear what it is your fate to be required to bear.

Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.

Superstition was with me at that moment, but it was not yet her hour for complete victory.

Of an artistic temperament, I deny that I am; yet I must possess something of the artist’s faculty of making the most of present pleasure.