Your Will Shall Decide Your Destiny.

I Both Wished And Feared To See Mr. Rochester On The Day Which Followed This Sleepless Night. I Wanted To Hear His Voice Again, Yet Feared To Meet His Eye.

I Was Glad Of It: I Never Liked Long Walks, Especially On Chilly Afternoons: Dreadful To Me Was The Coming Home In The Raw Twilight, With Nipped Fingers And Toes, And A Heart Saddened By The Chidings Of Bessie, The Nurse, And Humbled By The Consciousness Of My Physical Inferiority To Eliza, John, And Georgiana Reed.

Reserved People Often Really Need The Frank Discussion Of Their Sentiments And Griefs More Than The Expansive. The Sternest-seeming Stoic Is Human After All, And To Burst With Boldness And Good-will Into The Silent Sea Of Their Souls Is Often To Confer On Them The First Of Obligations.

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

Neither Birth Nor Sex Forms A Limit To Genius.