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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

Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Action Hide Honesty One Liner People
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
EMILY BRONTE

Destruction Himself Slave
I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free… Why am I so changed? I’m sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.
EMILY BRONTE

Freedom Girl Hard Myself Savage
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Happiness Quite Seek Society Town
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
It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
EMILY BRONTE

Compare Feeling Himself Social
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
I’ll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
EMILY BRONTE

Choice Dirty Myself
The 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 BRONTE

Loud Night Play Wild Wind Winter
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE

Existence Forget Myself Yourself
Yes, as my swift days near their goal, ’tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
EMILY BRONTE

Courage Day Death Endurance Goal Life Soul
What kind of living will it be when you – Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
EMILY BRONTE

Deep Grave Kind Live Soul Yourself
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE

Identity Myself Sleep Time
Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.
EMILY BRONTE

Angel Angry Break Earth Heart Heaven Home Joy Myself Wake Up
I never told my love vocally still.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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