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Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

Emily Bronte

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
It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.
EMILY BRONTE

Cruelty Forgiveness God Learning People Punishment
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

Eyes Heaven Hell Myself Night
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Myself Repair Trouble
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
EMILY BRONTE

Destruction Himself Slave
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

Attachment Break Cruelty Habit Himself Lose Reason Strong
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
But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm’s length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I’ll rest.
EMILY BRONTE

Man Reach Struggle Water Yourself
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Plants Worth
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
A heaven so clear, an earth so calm, So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air; And, deepening still the dreamlike charm, Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.
EMILY BRONTE

Beautiful Calm Earth Feed Heaven Nature Soft
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
Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?
EMILY BRONTE

Dreams Earth Inspirational Lonely Yourself
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Inspirational Myself Result Silence Work
I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
EMILY BRONTE

Hate Himself Memories Myself Remember

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

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Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

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