Bronte Quotes Novels & Stories

“How dare you? You spoilt bag of cheese. You come in here and meet a Queen like me only to embarrass me in front of the whole world!” “I think you’re overreacting.” “Did you hear what she said, Lot? She said I’m overreacting.” Lot had to step in. “You don’t have to get angry over an insignificant poor girl like her. Relax, she’s not worth it.” Brit fanned herself. “You’re right.” She eyed Lexa. “Throw those white gloves away. I don’t want to see them.” “What was that?”

OCTAVIA ADLER. “What were you thinking?!” Brittney said, her voice was loud enough to echo through the corridor but I only smiled as I looked up at the sky. Really, what was I thinking? “I’ve only read about a bond as strong as the bond you share with the overlord in books and people have been dying to have that kind of bond with their mate, why are you trying to throw it away?” She added. Staring at Brittney, she looked like a child and she happens to be one but even I knew that she was matured for an age and I could confide in her.

The lady-in-waiting watched as Aurora used her good arm to pull the first volume towards her and open it. In the quietest of voices, Aurora whispered her response, "To quote Brinn, I'll sleep when I am dead." Having heard her, Nanny responded, "Just don't hasten it, my dear."

"I have another one titled How do I love thee. Elizabeth Barret Browning. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death." She

"You found your purpose. I'm not going to make you give that up just because I'm clingy." "We'll both be clingy," I corrected. "But we'll make it work." Later that evening the fire in our chambers had burned low, casting long shadows across the stone walls of Wynterhold. Beatrice stood by the window first, moonlight shining on her skin, her nightgown already slipping off one shoulder. She hadn’t said much since we’d returned from the discussion with her brothers—just looked at me with those eyes that always saw straight through me.

Bridgette sighed deeply, but didn't speak, her body leaned slightly into me, listening. “And now she’s back,” I said bitterly. “Like some banshee. And the worst thing is I think I'm just like her. Taking , not caring until everything is burnt to ashes.” Bridgette’s gaze snapped to mine, “Don’t be stupid,” she snapped, “You might be dramatic. And insufferable. And have a god complex half the time but you’re not her. You are not selfish. You’re smart, not as smart as me—”

I said softly. She unwrapped it with the same gentleness, peeling back the paper to reveal a small bronze bookmark wrapped in tissue. It was old, beautifully engraved, with a quote etched in elegant lettering: You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. — Jane Austen. Annie went completely silent, running her fingertips across the metal like she was trying to memorize every curve. "Nate…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It's beautiful."

“When I am free—” Madame Browne cut me off. She leaned down slowly, her expression serene as always. She cupped my chin with gloved fingers and smiled. “And yet here you are. Tied up. Powerless. With your daughter in our care.” I spit at her feet. “You’re nothing but a leech, clinging to someone else’s legacy. You think you’re strong because you stand behind armed men and their weapons. But inside, you’re just a bitter, broken coward who hides behind designer shit and makeup.”

"Yes. I don’t care who you think you are. You’ve disrespected me, insulted me, and manipulated me long enough. You’re nothing but a leech, feeding off your son’s hard work, poisoning everything you touch. I’m done with you." Beatrice’s mouth opened and closed as though she couldn’t find the right words to retaliate. She had never expected Suzanne, the quiet, compliant woman she had always treated like an extension of herself, to snap like this. It was a blow to her ego that she hadn’t seen coming, and it left her stunned.

CHAPTER 19 “Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at