Charlotte Brontë

Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness

I like the spirit of this great London which I feel around me. Who but a coward would pass his whole life in hamlets

All the room darkened and my heart again sank

I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature

A loving eye is all the charm needed: to such you are handsome enough

I am no bird

It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action

Feeling without judgement is a washy draught indeed

I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime