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Honest people don’t hide their deeds.

Emily Bronte

Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe; It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe.
EMILY BRONTE

Endurance Enemy Grave Last Sleep Strong
Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.
EMILY BRONTE

Return Thinking Torture
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Happiness Quite Seek Society Town
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.
EMILY BRONTE

Dreams Life Myself Stay
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
Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
EMILY BRONTE

Breathe Imagination Quiet Sleep Wonder
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

Care Expectation Flower Himself Plant
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself Necessary Representation Visible
No coward soul is mine.
EMILY BRONTE

Coward Myself One Liner Soul
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
Terror made me cruel.
EMILY BRONTE

Cruelty Myself Terrorism
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
You know, I’ve had a bitter, hard life since I last heard your voice and if I’ve survived it’s all because of you.
EMILY BRONTE

Bitter Hard Life Survive Voice Yourself
Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?
EMILY BRONTE

Bloom Constant Friendship Love Rose Wild
The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.
EMILY BRONTE

Autumn Black Darkness Old Wind
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE

Identity Myself Sleep Time

Honest people don’t hide their deeds.

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Honest people don’t hide their deeds.

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