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Quote by Currer Bell

“Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion...Appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines that only tend to elate and magnify few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ.”

Quote by Currer Bell

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Jane Eyre

Charlotte Brontë's 'Jane Eyre' is a poignant narrative of a young woman's journey from poverty and hardship to self-discovery and love. The story unfolds in the English countryside, where Jane's life is transformed by her employment at Thornfield Hall and her complex relationship with its enigmatic owner, Edward Rochester. The novel explores themes of social class, individualism, and the struggle for independence, while offering a rich portrayal of the human spirit. more

Author

Currer Bell

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“Don't you think it's possible your attachment to Merripen was a result of proximity as much as anything else?" Leo had asked gently. "Let's look at the situation honestly, Win. You have nothing in common with him. You're a lovely, sensitive, literate woman, and he's... Merripen. He likes to chop wood for entertainment. And apparently it falls to me to point out the indelicate truth that some couples are well-suited in the bedroom but not anywhere else." Win had been shocked out of her tears by his bluntness. "Leo Hathaway, are you suggesting-" "Lord Ramsay now, thank you," he had teased. "Lord Ramsay, are you suggesting that my feelings for Merripen are carnal in nature?" "They're certainly not intellectual," Leo had said, and grinned as she punched him in the shoulder.”

“You're supposed to congratulate the bridegroom, phral. Not threaten to dismember him." "It's not a threat," the Rom muttered. "It's a promise." Harry met Merripen's gaze directly. "I appreciate your concern for her. I assure you, I'll do everything in my power to make her happy. Poppy will have anything she wants." "I believe a divorce would top the list," Leo mused aloud.”

“Marks was so self-contained and tenacious that it was often easy to forget she was still a young woman in her early twenties. When Leo had first met her, she had been the perfect embodiment of a dried-up spinster, with her spectacles and forbidding scowl and her stern hyphen of a mouth. Her spine was unbending as a fireplace poker, and her hair, the dull brown of apple moths, was always pinned back too tightly. The Grim Reaper, Leo had nicknamed her, despite the objections of the family. But the past year had wrought a remarkable change in Marks. She had filled out, her body slender but no longer matchstick thin, and her cheeks had gained color. A week and a half ago, when Leo had arrived from London, he had been absolutely astonished to see Marks with light golden locks. Apparently she had been dyeing her hair for years, but after an error on the part of the apothecary, she had been forced to abandon the disguise. And whereas the darker brown locks had been too severe for her delicate features and pale skin, her own natural blond was stunning. Which had left Leo to grapple with the fact that Catherine Marks, his mortal enemy, was a beauty. It wasn't really the altered hair color that made her look so different... it was more that Marks was so uncomfortable without it. She felt vulnerable, and it showed. As a result, Leo wanted to strip away more layers, literal and physical. He wanted to know her.”

“As I understand, you need to marry and sire a child rather soon. If Cat doesn't succeed in bearing a son, the Hathaways will lose Ramsay House." "We've survived many things far worse than losing a bloody house. I'll marry Marks and take the risk." "Perhaps you're testing the waters," Harry said, his face expressionless. "Trying to determine if she's fertile before you marry her.”

“There isn't a woman who doesn't love the Perfect Man; In their wild dreams they see nothing but charms and virtues and gleefully deck out the men of their choice in all these qualities; but these glittering robes fit for a God often drape an abject model; but whatever he is, no sooner have they dressed him up than, dazzled by their own handiwork, they prostrate themselves to adore him.”