Conventionality Is Not Morality.

Reason Sits Firm And Holds The Reins, And She Will Not Let The Feelings Burst Away And Hurry Her To Wild Chasms. The Passions May Rage Furiously, Like True Heathens, As They Are; And The Desires May Imagine All Sorts Of Vain Things: But Judgment Shall Still Have The Last Word In Every Argument, And The Casting Vote In Every Decision. Strong Wind, Earthquake-shock, And Fire May Pass By: But I Shall Follow The Guiding Of That Still Small Voice Which Interprets The Dictates Of Conscience.

I Mentally Shake Hands With You For Your Answer, Despite Its Inaccuracy." Mr. Rochester

I Have Little Left In Myself -- I Must Have You. The World May Laugh -- May Call Me Absurd, Selfish -- But It Does Not Signify. My Very Soul Demands You: It Will Be Satisfied, Or It Will Take Deadly Vengeance On Its Frame.

His Mind Was Indeed My Library, And Whenever It Was Opened To Me, I Entered Bliss.

My Wretched Feet, Flayed And Swollen To Lameness By The Sharp Air Of January, Began To Heal And Subside Under The Gentler Breathings Of April; The Nights And Mornings No Longer By Their Canadian Temperature Froze The Very Blood In Our Veins; We Could Now Endure The Play-hour Passed In The Garden.