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The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

Emily Bronte

Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Action Hide Honesty One Liner People
I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.
EMILY BRONTE

Better Himself Live Love Misery Night Prayer
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE

Common Joy Melancholy Sweet Time
They forgot everything the minute they were together again.
EMILY BRONTE

Forget Love Relationship Togetherness
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE

Identity Myself Sleep Time
The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We’ll talk its pensive hours away.
EMILY BRONTE

Loud Night Play Wild Wind Winter
There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou – Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.
EMILY BRONTE

Art Breathe Death Destroy Room
It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world.
EMILY BRONTE

Alone Greedy People Strange World
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Myself Repair Trouble
It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.
EMILY BRONTE

Cruelty Forgiveness God Learning People Punishment
Yes, as my swift days near their goal, ’tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
EMILY BRONTE

Courage Day Death Endurance Goal Life Soul
Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world’s tide is bearing me along; Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.
EMILY BRONTE

Desire Forget Hope Love Myself World Wrong Youth
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Plants Worth
I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!
EMILY BRONTE

Brother Doubt God Love Mom Myself Prayer Worst
A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.
EMILY BRONTE

Company Himself Man Sensible
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
EMILY BRONTE

End Enemy Violence Worst Wound

The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

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The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

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Popular Authors

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