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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

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Emily Bronte
Age: 30 †
Born: 1818
Born: July 30
Died: 1848
Died: December 19
Novelist
Poet
Thornton
West Yorkshire
Ellis Bell
Emily Jane Brontë
Aimili Bolangte
Emili Bronte
Emily Jane Bronte
Ai-mi-li Po-lang-tʻe
Ėmilii︠a︡ Bronte
エ ミ リ ー ブ ロ ン テ
Beyond
Everybody
Existence
Cannot
Surely
Express
Notion

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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?
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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.
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The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
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A heaven so clear, an earth so calm, So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air And, deepening still the dreamlike charm, Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.
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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
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We must be for ourselves in the long run the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
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He had the hypocrisy to represent a mourner: and previous to following with Hareton, he lifted the unfortunate child on to the table and muttered, with peculiar gusto, 'Now, my bonny lad, you are mine! And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!
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He’s more myself than I am
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Alas, for the effects of bad tea and bad temper!
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Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe.
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I got the sexton, who was digging Linton's grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there, when I saw her face again - it is hers yet - he had hard work to stir me but he said it would change, if the air blew on it.
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Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
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The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child Forsake thy books, and mate less play And, while the night is gathering grey, We'll talk its pensive hours away.
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They forgot everything the minute they were together again.
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Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?
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He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction, a look of hatred unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.
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I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.
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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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You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.
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I'll be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty!
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