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The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

Emily Bronte

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

Change Happiness Life Secret Tears
Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
EMILY BRONTE

Himself Imagination Love Thinking Yourself
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Myself Repair Trouble
Yes, as my swift days near their goal, ’tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
EMILY BRONTE

Courage Day Death Endurance Goal Life Soul
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
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

Cold Darkness Myself Night Wild Wind
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE

Break Up Death Heart Himself Love Myself Return
The 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.
EMILY BRONTE

Loud Night Play Wild Wind Winter
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Happiness Quite Seek Society Town
I will walk where my own nature would be leading.
EMILY BRONTE

Leadership Myself Nature Walk
Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?
EMILY BRONTE

Bloom Constant Friendship Love Rose Wild
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
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
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

Better Himself Live Love Misery Night Prayer
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.
EMILY BRONTE

Freedom Heart Man Move Waste Time Worth

The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

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The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

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Popular Authors

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