If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.
EMILY BRONTEYou know, I’ve had a bitter, hard life since I last heard your voice and if I’ve survived it’s all because of you.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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She burned too bright for this world.
EMILY BRONTE -
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
That is how I’m loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he’s in my soul.
EMILY BRONTE -
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE -
I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.
EMILY BRONTE -
How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.
EMILY BRONTE -
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.
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 -
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 -
But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm’s length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I’ll rest.
EMILY BRONTE -
He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!
EMILY BRONTE -
Good words,” I replied. “But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don’t forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear.
EMILY BRONTE -
No coward soul is mine.
EMILY BRONTE