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 BRONTEAnd, 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?
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.
EMILY BRONTE -
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
EMILY BRONTE -
I can say with sincerity that I like cats. A cat is an animal which has more human feelings than almost any other.
EMILY BRONTE -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
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 -
I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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 -
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 -
I see heaven’s glories shine and faith shines equal.
EMILY BRONTE -
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE -
You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.
EMILY BRONTE -
Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
EMILY BRONTE -
He was attached by ties stronger than reason could break — chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.
EMILY BRONTE -
The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
EMILY BRONTE