Your Station Is In My Heart, And

Well Had Solomon Said,'better Is A Dinner Of Herbs Where Love Is, Than A Stalled Ox And Hatred Therewith.

Jane Eyre "i Desired More...than Was Within My Reach. Who Blames Me? Many Call Me Discontented. I Couldn't Help It: The Restlessness Is In My Nature; It Agitated Me To Pain Sometimes.

I Am Anchored On A Resolve You Cannot Shake. My Heart, My Conscience Shall Dispose Of My Hand - They Only. Know This At Last.

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.

My Hopes Were All Dead --- Struck With A Subtle Doom, Such As, In One Night, Fell On All The First-born In The Land Of Egypt. I Looked On My Cherished Wishes, Yesterday So Blooming And Glowing; They Lay Stark, Chill, Livid Corpses That Could Never Revive.