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

Emily Bronte

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
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
EMILY BRONTE

Avoid Hate Love Myself Strange Thinking
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

Face Goodness Heart Ugly Worst
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
Hereafter she is only my sister in name; not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.
EMILY BRONTE

Herself Leaving Myself Name Relationship Sister
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE

Existence Forget Myself Yourself
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.
EMILY BRONTE

Dreams Life Myself Stay
That is how I’m loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he’s in my soul.
EMILY BRONTE

Himself Ignorance Love Mindset Myself Soul
I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!
EMILY BRONTE

Breathe Heart Myself
You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.
EMILY BRONTE

Cultivate Life Occasion Reflection Silly Yourself
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself Necessary Representation Visible
I see heaven’s glories shine and faith shines equal.
EMILY BRONTE

Equality Faith Glory Heaven See Shine
Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
EMILY BRONTE

Breathe Imagination Quiet Sleep Wonder
We must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
EMILY BRONTE

Domination Generosity Ourselves Run Selfish
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
EMILY BRONTE

Death Live Value
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

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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