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 BRONTEWhat kind of living will it be when you – Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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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 -
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 -
He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.
EMILY BRONTE -
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 BRONTE -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.
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 -
You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.
EMILY BRONTE -
Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!
EMILY BRONTE -
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide: Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.
EMILY BRONTE -
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE -
She burned too bright for this world.
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 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







