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Updated: May 21, 2025
A man is a king, he seemed to think, and the attribute of kings is their splendid isolation, their godlike solitude. If his Ego were lonely and crying out for sympathy, Borrow thought it a moment for solitude, in which to discipline his insurgent spirit. The "Horrors" were the result of this self-repression.
As the result of the young secretary's effort of self-repression, there appeared in her face, at the moment when Miss Jemima turned to leave the room, an expression so much like that assumed by the countenance of "Cobbler" Horn at times when he was very firm, that the heart of Miss Jemima gave a mighty bound. Meanwhile Miss Jemima's brother was eagerly awaiting her return.
One day an attack would finish it all; meantime, in spite of her power of self-repression, she chafed at the monotony of her imprisonment.
Underneath her muslin blouse her heart had suddenly commenced to beat fiercely a sense of excitement, long absent, was stealing through her veins. The bonds which a year's studied self-repression had forged were snapped apart.
The years of painful self-repression and forced dissimulation which turned his bright youth to bitterness and filled his mind with angry prejudice, had only consolidated his self-reliant pride and firm determination to walk worthily before the gods.
'Think what a short way out of your difficulty this would be, he continued. 'No bother about aunts, no fetching home by an angry father. It seemed to decide her. She yielded to his embrace. 'How long will it take to marry? Miss Bencomb asked by-and-by, with obvious self-repression. 'We could do it to-morrow.
Seth's outburst was so unusual that Rube stared in silent amazement. It seemed as if his bodily weakness had utterly broken down the stern self-repression usually his. It was as though with the weakening of muscle had come a collapse of his wonderful self-reliance, and against his will he was driven to seek support. Rube removed his pipe from his mouth. His slow moving brain was hard at work.
Gradually sinking into extreme old age, her self-repression and her bitterness grew ever more and more complete.
No; the theorists who have insisted on this tragic passion have not reckoned with Charlotte Brontë's character, and its tremendous power of self-repression. If at Brussels any disastrous tenderness had raised its head it wouldn't have had a chance to grow an inch. But Charlotte had large and luminous ideas of friendship. She was pure, utterly pure from all the illusions and subtleties and corruptions of the sentimentalist, and she could trust herself in friendship. She brought to it ardours and vehemences that she would never have allowed to love. If she let herself go in her infrequent intercourse with M. Héger, it was because she was so far from feeling in herself the possibility of passion. That was why she could say, "I think, however long I live, I shall not forget what the parting with M. Héger cost me. It grieved me so much to grieve him who has been so true, kind, and disinterested a friend." That was how she could bring herself to write thus to Monsieur: "Savez-vous ce que je ferais, Monsieur? J'écrirais un livre et je le dédierais
This is a practical illustration of the fact that control of appearances is merely control of the muscles, and that, even so far as our nervous system goes, it is only repression, and self-repression is not self-control.
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