You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTEThe winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We’ll talk its pensive hours away.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE -
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
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 -
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 -
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE -
It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,’ he answered. ‘Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?
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 -
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.
EMILY BRONTE -
Earth reserves no blessing For the unblessed of Heaven!
EMILY BRONTE -
I have fled my country and gone to the heather.
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’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 -
Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.
EMILY BRONTE -
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
EMILY BRONTE -
It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.
EMILY BRONTE