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What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?

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
Kind
Would
Like
Grave
Graves
Living
Soul
Live

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I'm happiest when most away I can bear my soul from its home of clay On a windy night when the moon is bright And the eye can wander through worlds of light— When I am not and none beside— Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky— But only spirit wandering wide Through infinite immensity.
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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.
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He... was attached by ties stronger than reason could break -- chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.
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Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
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Terror made me cruel.
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I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
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It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.
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He shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
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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 understand that most ladies tend to prefer lap dogs.... Perhaps I am an exception.
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You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!
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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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Joseph is the wearisomest and self-righteous Pharisee who ever ransacked the Bible to rake the promises to himself and fling the curses on his neighbor.
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If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
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Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!' he said. 'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!
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I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
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