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#Jane Eyre
librichetifannovivere · 4 hours ago
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"Perché soffrivo sempre, perché ero sempre calpestata, accusata, condannata? Perché non potevo mai essere amata?"
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zoologica42 · 15 hours ago
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Jane Eyre is probably the only classic text I’ve read where:
-There is a dog
-The dog has a prominent place in the story
-the dog does not die in the end
Pilot is a very good boy and I’m very glad he was spared the quite virulent and all too common dog-in-book syndrome.
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gisatako · 20 hours ago
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To twenty-first-century eyes, it shows a woman who fights for, yet abdicates to, love. To nineteenth-century eyes, it showed a woman who should abdicate to, yet fights for, love.
Sorry, but Jane Eyre Isn’t the Romance You Want It to Be
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luckystarinsky · 20 hours ago
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"I am not well. I could have built the Pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason."
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice
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girlvictims · 21 hours ago
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...it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame.
Charlotte Brontë , Jane Eyre
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iamdouae · a day ago
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``....and then your looks and movements will have more vivacity and variety than they dare offer now , I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close set bars of a cage;a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there;were it but free,it would soar cloud high. You are still bent on going?``
Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
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silveragelovechild · a day ago
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By Pascal Croci
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emgeeareyoueffeff · a day ago
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Ciarán Hinds and Samantha Morton in Jane Eyre (1997) - The Sunrise on Millcote Hill
“The ease of his manner freed me from painful restraint: the friendly frankness, as correct as cordial, with which he treated me, drew me to him. I felt at times as if he were my relation rather than my master: yet he was imperious sometimes still; but I did not mind that; I saw it was his way. So happy, so gratified did I become with this new interest added to life, that I ceased to pine after kindred: my thin crescent-destiny seemed to enlarge; the blanks of existence were filled up; my bodily health improved; I gathered flesh and strength.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
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becomingabeing · a day ago
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I want to draw a mandala but I have to "locate Jane and Bertha in the history and architecture of Thornfield Hall"...why must I suffer like this?
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rini-descartes · 2 days ago
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When Dostoyevsky said "Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart" and when Jane Austen said "Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied."
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spankerella · 2 days ago
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emgeeareyoueffeff · 2 days ago
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Ciarán Hinds and Samantha Morton in Jane Eyre (1997) - Unspoken Feelings
"I believe he is of mine - I am sure he is - I feel akin to him - I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him. Did I say, a few days since, that I had nothing to do with him but to receive my salary at his hands? Did I forbid myself to think of him in any other light than as a paymaster? Blasphemy against nature! Every good, true, vigorous feeling I have gathers impulsively round him. I know I must conceal my sentiments: I must smother hope; I must remember that he cannot care much for me. For when I say that I am of his kind, I do not mean that I have his force to influence, and his spell to attract; I mean only that I have certain tastes and feelings in common with him. I must, then, repeat continually that we are for ever sundered - and yet, while I breathe and I think, I must love him.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
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zoologica42 · 3 days ago
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The real reason I prefer Brontë to Austen is that I realize how much better I would do as a character in a Brontë novel than an Austen Novel.
Following social constructs *just* well enough to prove their absurdity? Nah. I don’t have the constitution for that.
Wandering around on a moor? Screaming, biting people, and acting as a metaphor for colonialism and female oppression? Now that’s something I can handle.
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veryslowreader · 3 days ago
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Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
Definitely, Maybe
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heat
bet I can take all the heat,
as my body grooves with the beat.
look how the scorching sun sings & stoke,
to everything that's country and folk.
this heart of mine melting away,
iceberg struggling to topple over the ocean waves,
comes to sink in my fiery whirlpool of desires,
I too get overdosed on this tempting potion of fire.
but know not what the heat can do to the dove,
that all her peace comes with compassion & love,
and if it is to completely end her distress,
she has to fly it past those rocky crests.
& when the gasoline ambushes me with rings of fire,
I make it twirl to challenge its heat by going higher.
to ablaze is to foresee,
who'd quench their thirst with my fire,
and who'd hurry extinguishing just to flee.
though, it's that heat which takes over my intuition,
and go where it saves me,
from all those unpretentious premonitions.
there a sun kissed a flower once,
his sprinkles of heat running through its stems.
God sure has His ways of telling miraculous tales,
who will be the one to burn,
and who will be the one to turn stale.
holding the stars in one,
or fuming the lights for bitter fun,
heat can make it all happen,
though, the vacillating entropies,
admire challenging this burnt ball of puce.
what's a sky with no mild scarlet fever?
as if no mangoes ripe in this cruel summer season,
and when I am to articulate what heat is to me,
I'd bluntly say it is what reefs are to seas.
I wonder what volcanoes put up to turn out that wild,
dissipating heat through smoke & lava with all their might,
they scream and rage about their power & wrath,
for that they were dormant but not dead inside.
and I know it's already too late,
now that my heart smells like forest fires & acid rains,
falling and seeping into each of my vessels,
like if it doesn't bring me the most ecstatic pain.
each day the sun follows His call,
burning down all those sandcastle walls.
it seems as if deserts wear heat like a conquest jewellery,
glittering the life there in this scorching cruelty.
this rain survives,
only if the heat is alive;
these clouds excite & squeal,
for afterall they're just heat wanting to heal.
centuries have past searching for it,
an energy you can not fathom but feel;
for that death carries life in its arms,
so the heat escapes and it finds its calm.
c. Sidrah Idrees (My Evocative Lullabies)
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jaeneyre · 3 days ago
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LITERARY: jane eyre by charlotte brontë
“If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”
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