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 BRONTEBy this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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They forgot everything the minute they were together again.
EMILY BRONTE -
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE -
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
EMILY BRONTE -
You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!
EMILY BRONTE -
Be with me always – take any form – drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!
EMILY BRONTE -
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.
EMILY BRONTE -
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 -
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
EMILY BRONTE -
Cold in the earth and the deeps now piled above thee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last byTime’s all-serving wave?
EMILY BRONTE -
The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.
EMILY BRONTE -
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE -
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
EMILY BRONTE -
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE