Цитаты из книг автора «Шарлотта Бронте»

the creature pulled the hair away from its face, and I knew for certain it was the strange woman who had come into my room the night before last.

wounded arm. Mr. Rochester drew aside the tapestry to reveal the hidden door, opened it, and summoned us inside. A fire burned in the grate, and over it leaned the familiar shape of Grace Poole, stirring something in a saucepan. Beyond her, a strange creature moved to and fro, crouching and crawling on all fours. It wore a long white gown, and a tangle of matted hair hid its face.

A wife my father forced me to marry fifteen years ago. A wife who – although they concealed it from me – is a madwoman, a wild, drunken monster.

You have never heard of her, because I kept her hidden. It is all true. I admit I was planning to marry again, because I wanted happiness for myself

said Mason. “She lives at Thornfield Hall, and I saw her there in April. I am her brother.”

“So I was married,” Mr. Rochester snarled. “That does not mean my wife is still alive.” “She was still living three months ago,” said the solicitor. “I have a witness who saw her.” Now the second figure came out of the shadows at the back of the church. It was Mr. Mason.

“I am Mr. Briggs, a solicitor from London.”

“Mr. Rochester is already married,” he said. His words sliced through me like a knife.

The vicar announced that we were here to be married, then asked us if we knew of any reason why we should not be. There was a pause, as there always is at that part of the ceremony. When is that pause ever broken? So, after a while, Mr. Wood reached out a hand to Mr. Rochester, opened his mouth and took a breath to continue with the declarations. At that moment, a voice at the back of the church said: “The marriage cannot take place – I declare an impediment.”

в сердце поэта – свет и огонь, которые согревают и освещают его путь, в то время как остальным его существование представляется полюсом холода, где никогда не проглядывает солнце. Истинного поэта вовсе не следует жалеть – он еще и посмеется тайком над теми бестолковыми утешителями, кто будет иметь глупость пустить слезу над его невзгодами. Даже когда приверженцы утилитаризма провозглашают поэзию и его самого бесполезными для блага общества, он выслушивает приговор несчастных фарисеев с таким явным, глубоким, всеобъемлющим и безжалостным презрением, что заслуживает скорее упрека, чем сочувствия.