I can say with sincerity that I like cats. A cat is an animal which has more human feelings than almost any other.
EMILY BRONTEHeaven 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.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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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 -
I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.
EMILY BRONTE -
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
EMILY BRONTE -
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
EMILY BRONTE -
I see heaven’s glories shine and faith shines equal.
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
She burned too bright for this world.
EMILY BRONTE -
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE -
Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world’s tide is bearing me along; Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.
EMILY BRONTE -
I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
I will walk where my own nature would be leading.
EMILY BRONTE -
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
EMILY BRONTE -
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
EMILY BRONTE -
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