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You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.

Emily Bronte

They forgot everything the minute they were together again.
EMILY BRONTE

Forget Love Relationship Togetherness
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.
EMILY BRONTE

Cold Darkness Myself Night Wild Wind
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

Eyes Heaven Hell Myself Night
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
EMILY BRONTE

Destruction Himself Slave
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
EMILY BRONTE

Children Freedom Girl Hard Myself Savage
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 have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.
EMILY BRONTE

Change Color Dreams Ideas Life Mindset Stay Water Wine
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

Ability Day Love Measurement Myself Power
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
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
EMILY BRONTE

Love Myself Necessary Representation Visible
It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,’ he answered. ‘Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?
EMILY BRONTE

Eyes Feeling Forgiveness Hands Hard Love Murder Myself See Wasted
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
EMILY BRONTE

Death Live Value
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.
EMILY BRONTE

Haunt Kill Live Myself
I have fled my country and gone to the heather.
EMILY BRONTE

Country Myself Run Travel
And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?
EMILY BRONTE

Anger Dare Divine Drinking Empty Engagement Memories Myself Pain Seek World
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

You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.

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You’re hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content.

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