To women who please me only by their faces I am the very devil when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts when they open to me a perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps imbecility, coarseness, and ill-temper: but to the clear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break - at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent - I am ever tender and true.
Charlotte BronteEnglish author 21 April 1816 — 31 March 1855 |
Jane EyrePage 222 |
Details:Submitted by: Aqarius Time of publication: March 4, 2012 Length: 424 characters Favorited by: 0 member |