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 BRONTEWe must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Though earth and man were gone, And suns and universes ceased to be, And Thou wert left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee.
EMILY BRONTE -
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
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’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 -
Terror made me cruel.
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 -
Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe; It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe.
EMILY BRONTE -
The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.
EMILY BRONTE -
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE -
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But if you be afraid of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she comes in.
EMILY BRONTE -
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
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 -
We must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
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 -
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