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In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.

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
I’ll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
EMILY BRONTE

Choice Dirty Myself
He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!
EMILY BRONTE

Care Expectation Flower Himself Plant
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

Death Destroy Destruction Feeling Heart Himself Myself People Power
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Myself Repair Trouble
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
EMILY BRONTE

Change Happiness Life Secret Tears
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

Action Head Himself Love Togetherness Touch Word
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
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.
EMILY BRONTE

Company Happiness Himself Man Myself Pleasure Quite Seek Sensible
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.
EMILY BRONTE

Haunt Kill Live Myself
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
Earth reserves no blessing For the unblessed of Heaven!
EMILY BRONTE

Blessing Earth Heaven Reserve
You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.
EMILY BRONTE

Care Friendship Hard Satisfaction Yourself
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
Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?
EMILY BRONTE

Dreams Earth Inspirational Lonely Yourself
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE

Existence Forget Myself Yourself

In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.

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In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.

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