And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?
EMILY BRONTEHonest people don’t hide their deeds.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.
EMILY BRONTE -
I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free… Why am I so changed? I’m sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.
EMILY BRONTE -
I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!
EMILY BRONTE -
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
EMILY BRONTE -
You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.
EMILY BRONTE -
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE -
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.
EMILY BRONTE -
I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
EMILY BRONTE -
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
EMILY BRONTE -
Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous.
EMILY BRONTE -
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.
EMILY BRONTE