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

Emily Bronte

A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly.
EMILY BRONTE

Face Goodness Heart Ugly Worst
Terror made me cruel.
EMILY BRONTE

Cruelty Myself Terrorism
I have fled my country and gone to the heather.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Myself Run Travel
It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.
EMILY BRONTE

Company Herself People Talk
I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
EMILY BRONTE

Hate Himself Memories Myself Remember
I understand that most ladies tend to prefer lap dogs…. Perhaps I am an exception.
EMILY BRONTE

Choice Dog Exception Understand Woman
Cold in the earth and the deeps now piled above thee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last byTime’s all-serving wave?
EMILY BRONTE

Cold Deep Earth Forgot Grave Love Service Wave
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
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
EMILY BRONTE

Avoid Hate Love Myself Strange Thinking
The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.
EMILY BRONTE

Collection Existence Herself Lose Myself World
A person who has not done one half his day’s work by ten o clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.
EMILY BRONTE

Chance Leaving Person Run Work
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE

Forever Freedom Hope Life Night Offering
It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
EMILY BRONTE

Compare Feeling Himself Social
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE

Identity Myself Sleep Time
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
EMILY BRONTE

Change Happiness Life Secret Tears

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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