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My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

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

Eyes Feeling Forgiveness Hands Hard Love Murder Myself See Wasted
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Happiness Quite Seek Society Town
I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!
EMILY BRONTE

Brother Doubt God Love Mom Myself Prayer Worst
I never told my love vocally still.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself
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
I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.
EMILY BRONTE

Change Color Dreams Ideas Life Mindset Stay Water Wine
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
EMILY BRONTE

End Enemy Violence Worst Wound
A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.
EMILY BRONTE

Company Himself Man Sensible
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
EMILY BRONTE

Change Happiness Life Secret Tears
Terror made me cruel.
EMILY BRONTE

Cruelty Myself Terrorism
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

Break Escape Glory Heart Myself Pain Tears Wall World
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

Beyond Existence Expression Yourself
He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.
EMILY BRONTE

Equality Hate Himself Love
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 have fled my country and gone to the heather.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Myself Run Travel
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

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

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My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

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