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Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.

Emily Bronte

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself Necessary Representation Visible
Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Action Hide Honesty One Liner People
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Inspirational Myself Result Silence Work
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE

Common Joy Melancholy Sweet Time
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

Himself Ignorance Love Mindset Myself Soul
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
EMILY BRONTE

Destroy Destruction Enjoyment Lost Myself
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

Alone Earth Existence Man Sun Universe
Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
EMILY BRONTE

Breathe Imagination Quiet Sleep Wonder
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
What kind of living will it be when you – Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
EMILY BRONTE

Deep Grave Kind Live Soul Yourself
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
She burned too bright for this world.
EMILY BRONTE

Bright Burn Herself Instagram Captions World
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE

Forever Freedom Hope Life Night Offering
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

Break Escape Glory Heart Myself Pain Tears Wall World
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

Freedom Heart Man Move Waste Time Worth
No coward soul is mine.
EMILY BRONTE

Coward Myself One Liner Soul

Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.

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Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.

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