“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?”

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!

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.

Honest people don’t hide their deeds.

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

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.

He was attached by ties stronger than reason could break — chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.

I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?

Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.

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

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.

May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.

She burned too bright for this world.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Thankful for the rose grateful for its thorns these lessons bloom like weeds from them I am reborn.

Try to believe that still within you are flowers left to bloom.

Let yourself breathe. Let yourself grow. Give all your petals permission to unfold.

She understood what it meant to have a breathing space, she gave her loved ones enough to bloom in the light of sparkling silence.

The way we identify and awaken is all a natural process for life waking up to itself. Already awake. There is truly nothing you can do! You can not force a flower to bloom.

I will always remember you. And the way I bloomed. Not with you, but after you.

She is like water lily, because in the most hostile waters she blooms.

Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed.