Author of quotes: Anne Brontë

I understand you don't rush it:
No matter how you change the face,
But the secret mysteries of my soul
They will not be reflected;
Smile of the lips, the shining eyes,
Frowning brow,
The cheek - hide from you
Secret love.

I put happy candle -
You repent, grieving;
With the choir of angels I want
Bless you.
Let say you eccentric,
Let the light of you is not nice;
"Blessed are those who mourn" - so
The Savior spoke.

Yeah, you're gone! And there is now
Smile, the sun like that.
I'll walk to Church through the door
Go through the floor over you
And I'll think in silence,
Under the stove is covered here
That heart, which is dearer to me,
What a wonderful world whole.
And even if you don't see me,
But remember all your features.
Let it stop your life,
But the trail I've left you.

And your friendship I prefer the love of any other woman in the world!

You can look someone in the eye and in a moment to learn the breadth and depth of his soul, and not spend the rest of my life if the man didn't want to open you to your soul or if you're just not smart enough to understand it.

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breez;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
Soul started, as the bird is still alive,
And soared into the sky, soaring on the wings;
Free whistles the wind, blowing me,
Pass by forests and the sea.

Very painful to doubt the sincerity of those we love.

This is a very painful effect, to suspect abuse in perfectly harmless words and actions.

God is Eternal Wisdom, Power and Compassion... and Love. But if such a thing is too inconceivable for your human consciousness, if your mind is lost before the infinite in his immensity, then pay thought to the one Who condescended to share with us our nature, and even ascended to Heaven in their transformed, but human flesh. Besides, in Whom shines all the fullness of the Divine.

I am a mere mortal and do not agree to be worse than their own kind.

Grief there is no better means than work.

Regretting the loss of earthly pleasures for heavenly bliss, we are like a creeping caterpillar, which began to complain that her future is destined never to chew on the leaves, and leaping through the air and on their own pereporhnut from flower to flower, drinking sweet nectar from their cups, or basking in the sun among their fragrant petals! Know these tiny creatures, what a great change awaited them, no doubt, they are not afraid to.

The woman, agreeing to hear arguments to refute her beliefs, always ready in advance to reject them, shut your inner ear and not recognizing any, even the most ironclad logic.

Heaven reigns in perfect love.