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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.

Emily Bronte

Yes, as my swift days near their goal, ’tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
EMILY BRONTE

Courage Day Death Endurance Goal Life Soul
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.
EMILY BRONTE

Haunt Kill Live Myself
Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe; It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe.
EMILY BRONTE

Endurance Enemy Grave Last Sleep Strong
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

Drive Form Life Live Mad Myself Soul Togetherness
I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.
EMILY BRONTE

Beyond Existence Expression Yourself
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.
EMILY BRONTE

Break Escape Glory Heart Myself Pain Tears Wall World
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

Action Evidence Fear Forget Goodness Myself Remember Resolution Word
I’ll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
EMILY BRONTE

Choice Dirty Myself
He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.
EMILY BRONTE

Equality Hate Himself Love
The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
EMILY BRONTE

Clock Life Oneself Time
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE

Common Joy Melancholy Sweet Time
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
EMILY BRONTE

Destruction Himself Slave
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE

Plants Worth
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
EMILY BRONTE

Autumn Bliss Leaves Talk Tree
I will walk where my own nature would be leading.
EMILY BRONTE

Leadership Myself Nature Walk
That is how I’m loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he’s in my soul.
EMILY BRONTE

Himself Ignorance Love Mindset Myself Soul

Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.

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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.

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