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 BRONTEI have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But if you be afraid of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she comes in.
EMILY BRONTE -
He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.
EMILY BRONTE -
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE -
It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.
EMILY BRONTE -
Nay, you’ll be ashamed of me everyday of your life,” he answered; “and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it.
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 -
Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?
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 -
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
EMILY BRONTE -
Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
EMILY BRONTE -
It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
EMILY BRONTE -
I understand that most ladies tend to prefer lap dogs…. Perhaps I am an exception.
EMILY BRONTE -
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
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 -
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.
EMILY BRONTE