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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?

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
Look
Answered
Looks
Forgive
Done
Kiss
Hard
Forgiving
Feel
Kissing
Feels
Eyes
Love
Eye
Murderer
Hands
Wasted

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Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
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He’s more myself than I am
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How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
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There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.
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I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.
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I will walk where my own nature would be leading.
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I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.
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wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
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He had been content with daily labour and rough animal enjoyments, 'till Catherine crossed his path. Shame at her scorn, and hope of her approval, were his first prompts to higher pursuits and, instead of guarding him from one and winning him to the other, his endeavors to raise himself had produced just the contrary result.
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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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My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
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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.
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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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You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
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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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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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Hereafter she is only my sister in name not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.
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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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The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
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You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
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