You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!
EMILY BRONTEYes, as my swift days near their goal, ’tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!
EMILY BRONTE -
A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly.
EMILY BRONTE -
I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!
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 -
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE -
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide: Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.
EMILY BRONTE -
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
EMILY BRONTE -
Though earth and man were gone, And suns and universes ceased to be, And Thou wert left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee.
EMILY BRONTE -
How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.
EMILY BRONTE -
A person who has not done one half his day’s work by ten o clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.
EMILY BRONTE -
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE -
Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous.
EMILY BRONTE -
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.
EMILY BRONTE -
By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
EMILY BRONTE







