Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But if you be afraid of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she comes in.
EMILY BRONTEShe burned too bright for this world.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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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 entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.
EMILY BRONTE -
She burned too bright for this world.
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 -
We must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
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 -
I’ll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
EMILY BRONTE -
And, 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?
EMILY BRONTE -
How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.
EMILY BRONTE -
The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
EMILY BRONTE -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
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