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Worthless as wither’d weeds.

Emily Bronte

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

Love Myself Necessary Representation Visible
Earth reserves no blessing For the unblessed of Heaven!
EMILY BRONTE

Blessing Earth Heaven Reserve
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE

Effort Myself Repair Trouble
She burned too bright for this world.
EMILY BRONTE

Bright Burn Herself Instagram Captions World
Good words,” I replied. “But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don’t forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear.
EMILY BRONTE

Action Evidence Fear Forget Goodness Myself Remember Resolution Word
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
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
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
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
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
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.
EMILY BRONTE

Haunt Kill Live Myself
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
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
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
Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.
EMILY BRONTE

Return Thinking Torture

Worthless as wither’d weeds.

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Worthless as wither’d weeds.

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