Let Your Performance Do The

I Am Not Your Dear; I Cannot Lie Down: Send Me To School Soon, Mrs. Reed, For I Hate To Live Here.

To Women Who Please Me Only By Their Faces, I Am The Very Devil When I Find Out They Have Neither Souls Nor Hearts — When They Open To Me A Perspective Of Flatness, Triviality, And Perhaps Imbecility, Coarseness, And Ill-temper: But To The Clear Eye And Eloquent Tongue, To The Soul Made Of Fire, And The Character That Bends But Does Not Break — At Once Supple And Stable, Tractable And Consistent — I Am Ever Tender And True. (mr Rochester To Jane)

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

Misery Generates Hate.

To You I Am Neither Man Nor Woman. I Come Before You As An Author Only. It Is The Sole Standard By Which You Have A Right To Judge Me--the Sole Ground On Which I Accept Your Judgment.