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 BRONTEI’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 BRONTEYou know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTEYou’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.
EMILY BRONTEI never told my love vocally still.
EMILY BRONTEAny relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
EMILY BRONTEThat 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 BRONTEIt is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
EMILY BRONTEThe winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We’ll talk its pensive hours away.
EMILY BRONTEWe must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
EMILY BRONTEI have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!
EMILY BRONTEThe tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
EMILY BRONTEThe night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.
EMILY BRONTEA 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 BRONTEHe was attached by ties stronger than reason could break — chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.
EMILY BRONTEI wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
EMILY BRONTEThough earth and man were gone, And suns and universes ceased to be, And Thou wert left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee.
EMILY BRONTE