I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free… Why am I so changed? I’m sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.
EMILY BRONTEYour presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous.
More Emily Bronte Quotes
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Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
EMILY BRONTE -
Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.
EMILY BRONTE -
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
EMILY BRONTE -
I never told my love vocally still.
EMILY BRONTE -
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE -
The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
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 -
You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
EMILY BRONTE -
If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
EMILY BRONTE -
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
EMILY BRONTE -
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.
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 -
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 -
I see heaven’s glories shine and faith shines equal.
EMILY BRONTE -
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE -
Worthless as wither’d weeds.
EMILY BRONTE -
In secret pleasure — secret tears, This changeful life has slipped away.
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 -
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 -
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town.
EMILY BRONTE -
Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
EMILY BRONTE -
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE -
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
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 -
The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.
EMILY BRONTE -
Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
EMILY BRONTE