“My love has placed her little hand With noble faith in mine, And vowed that wedlock's sacred band Our nature shall entwine.My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, With me to live -- to die;I have at last my nameless bliss: As I love -- loved am I!”

“The truest love that ever heartFelt at its kindled core,Did through each vein, in quickened start,The tide of being pour.Her coming was my hope each day,Her parting was my pain;The chance that did her steps delayWas ice in every vein.I dreamed it would be nameless bliss,As I loved, loved to be;And to this object did I pressAs blind as eagerly.But wide as pathless was the spaceThat lay our lives between,And dangerous as the foamy raceOf ocean-surges green.And haunted as a robber-pathThrough wilderness or wood;For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath,Between our spirits stood.I dangers dared; I hindrance scorned;I omens did defy:Whatever menaced, harassed, warned,I passed impetuous by.On sped my rainbow, fast as light;I flew as in a dream;For glorious rose upon my sightThat child of Shower and Gleam.Still bright on clouds of suffering dimShines that soft, solemn joy;Nor care I now, how dense and grimDisasters gather nigh.I care not in this moment sweet,Though all I have rushed o'erShould come on pinion, strong and fleet,Proclaiming vengeance sore:Though haughty Hate should strike me down,Right, bar approach to me,And grinding Might, with furious frown,Swear endless enmity.My love has placed her little handWith noble faith in mine,And vowed that wedlock's sacred bandOur nature shall entwine.My love has sworn, with sealing kiss,With me to live--to die;I have at last my nameless bliss.As I love--loved am I!”

“Am I a liar in your eyes?" he asked passionately. "Little skeptic, you shall be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to prove; I caused a rumor to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed, and after that I presented myself to see the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not-I could not-marry Miss Ingram. You-you strange-you almost unearthly thing!-I love as my own flesh. You-poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are-I entreat to accept me as a husband.”

“Love me, then, or hate me, as you will," I said at last, "you have my full and free forgiveness: ask now for God's, and be at peace.”

“I am sure there is a future state; I believe God is good; I can resign my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. God is my father; God is my friend: I love Him; I believe He loves me.”

“I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest -- blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine.”

“Meantime, let me ask myself one question--Which is better?--To have surrendered to temptation; listened to passion; made no painful effort--no struggle;--but to have sunk down in the silken snare; fallen asleep on the flowers covering it; wakened in a southern clime, amongst the luxuries of a pleasure villa: to have been now living in France, Mr. Rochester's mistress; delirious with his love half my time--for he would--oh, yes, he would have loved me well for a while. He DID love me--no one will ever love me so again. I shall never more know the sweet homage given to beauty, youth, and grace--for never to any one else shall I seem to possess these charms. He was fond and proud of me--it is what no man besides will ever be.--But where am I wandering, and what am I saying, and above all, feeling? Whether is it better, I ask, to be a slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles--fevered with delusive bliss one hour- -suffocating with the bitterest tears of remorse and shame the next- -or to be a village-schoolmistress, free and honest, in a breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of England?”