Monday
Mar312014
Monday, March 31, 2014 at 04:44AM
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T h e I n n e r S h r i n e
Old Kentucky Home
Asheville, North Carolina
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"Mr. Rochester, I will not be yours."
Another long silence.
"Jane!" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, and turned me stone cold with ominous terror -- for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising -- "Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?"
"I do."
"Jane," (bending towards and embracing me), "do you mean it now?"
"I do."
"And now?" softly kissing my forehead and cheek.
"I do" -- extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely.
"O Jane, this is bitter! This -- this is wicked. It would not be wicked to love me."
"It would to obey you."
A wild look raised his brows -- crossed his features: he rose; but he forbore yet. I laid my hand on the back of a chair for support: I shook, I feared -- but I resolved.
"One instant, Jane. Give one glance to my horrible life when you are gone. All happiness will be torn away with you. What then is left? For a wife I have the maniac upstairs: as well might you refer me to some corpse in yonder churchyard. What shall I do, Jane? Where turn for a companion, and for some hope?"
"Do as I do: trust in God and yourself. Believe in heaven. Hope to meet again there."
"Then you will not yield?"
"No."
~from Jane Eyre~
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on the 159th anniversary of her death at the age of 38.
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Reader Comments (1)
One of my favorites!!