Misery Generates Hate.

For I Too Liked Reading, Thought Of A Frivolous And Childish Kind; I Could Not Digest Or Comprehend The Serious Or Substantial.

That A Greater Fool Than Jane Eyre Had Never Breathed The Breath Of Life; That A More Fantastic Idiot Had Never Surfeited Herself On Sweet Lies, And Swallowed Poison As If It Were Nectar.

Men Judge Us By The Success Of Our Efforts. God Looks At The Efforts Themselves.

Laws And Principles Are Not For The Times When There Is No Temptation: They Are For Such Moments As This, When Body And Soul Rise In Mutiny Against Their Rigour ... If At My Convenience I Might Break Them, What Would Be Their Worth?

I Seem To Have Gathered Up A Stray Lamb In My Arms: You Wandered Out Of The Fold To Seek Your Shepherd, Did You, Jane?