A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTEI 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.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE -
I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
EMILY BRONTE -
If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.
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 -
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 BRONTE -
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
EMILY BRONTE -
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
EMILY BRONTE -
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
EMILY BRONTE -
How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.
EMILY BRONTE -
Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
EMILY BRONTE -
I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.
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 -
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 -
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
EMILY BRONTE -
Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
EMILY BRONTE