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If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

Emily Bronte

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou – Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.
EMILY BRONTE

Art Breathe Death Destroy Room
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
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
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE

Forever Freedom Hope Life Night Offering
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
How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.
EMILY BRONTE

Burn Cruelty Ice Myself Water 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
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
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
EMILY BRONTE

Children Freedom Girl Hard Myself Savage
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE

Break Up Death Heart Himself Love Myself Return
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
EMILY BRONTE

Destroy Destruction Enjoyment Lost Myself
Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Action Hide Honesty One Liner People
If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.
EMILY BRONTE

Ability Day Love Measurement Myself Power
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
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 am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Happiness Quite Seek Society Town

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

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If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

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