Book: Jane Eyre. Page 2

It has never caused me to themselves so frequently as these days, have never been kind to me, and - alas! - never had I so very much loved it!

It seemed that mutual affection swept us the gold Hoop of the world.

What seems a trifle, when we are healthy, weighs heavily on the heart at such moments as now.

And crazy kind of woman who allows a mystery of love to arise in your heart, for this love unrequited and unknown, must burn the soul, nourished it; and even if love was found and divided, it is like a wandering light, will lead you into a deep mire where there is no escape.

His presence in the room warmed me more than the brightest fire.

The day will come when you will face a narrow rocky gorge, where the river of life will turn into a roaring whirlpool, foaming and thundering; and then you will either break on sharp reefs or you will pick up saving the shaft and carry in a more peaceful place as he claimed me...

Not that I lost support, but waned some internal stimulus; no calm left in me, but disappeared the reasons for this tranquility.

My eyes were closed; it seemed that all around me thickening the darkness, and the thoughts raging in me like a dark and stormy tide. Exhausted, weakened, without will, I seemed to be lying on the bottom of the dried up large rivers. I heard from the mountains rushing powerful stream and approaching me, but I have no desire to get up, I didn't have the strength to escape from him. I lay in exhaustion, calling death. The thought fluttered in me some weak life: it was a remembrance of God; it lived in silent prayer; her unspoken words little glimmer in my clouded mind, I had to utter them aloud, but do not have the strength...
"Don't walk away from me, for grief is near and no one to help me".
Oh, it was close! And since I didn't ask heaven to avert it, not folded hands, bowed knees, opened the mouth, it has struck me; mighty, flowing stream washed over me with terrible force. The bitter consciousness of lost life, broken my love, my lost hopes, my prostrate faith - it all rushed to me with a massive dark mass. This terrible tea defies description. Truly "all thy billows and thy waves swept over me".

But you know perfectly well what you think not about them but about someone else who doesn't think about you.

And I don't need a man, not similar to me, not cute to me. I need my family, those with whom I feel a complete harmony of views and tastes.

You tell me, fairy, can't you use any magic potions or something like that to turn me into a handsome man?
No potion will not help here, sir.
And mentally I added, "the Only magic that will work is a loving heart. And for him you are quite beautiful. Or rather - your the severity is more captivating than any beauty."

You could fly in and cling to my heart, if I wanted to. But, captured against their will, you're slipping from my hand, disappear as the fragrance, not allowing me to even touch it.

The mind sits firmly in the saddle and holding the reins, he will not allow the senses to break free and inspire him into the abyss. Let wildly raging passion, raw heathens, in essence, let the desire of the promise to many worldly pleasures is the last word in every argument will be for common sense as a decisive voice in every decision. Whether a hurricane, earthquake or fire - I'm still going to follow the counsel that quiet voice which interprets the dictates of conscience.

I was scared that the dog I was hit or kicked, suddenly looked at me with human eyes and cursed me in a human voice...