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The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.

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
Strikes
Hours
Half
Left
Life
Hollow
Clock

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Terror made me cruel.
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Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
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But there's this one difference: one is gold put to the use of paving-stones, and the other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. Mine has nothing valuable about it yet I shall have the merit of making it go as far as such poor stuff can go. His had first-rate qualities, and they are lost, rendered worst than unavailing.
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I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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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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Are you acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and the cat licking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently that puss's neglect of one ear would put you seriously out of temper?
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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.
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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!
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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 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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Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world's tide is bearing me along Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.
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If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable. Because you are not fit to go there, I answered. All sinners would be miserable in heaven.
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By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
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Still let my tyrants know, I am not doomed to wear Year after year in gloom, and desolate despair A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
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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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Earnsha was not to be civilized with a wish, and my young lady was no philosopher, and no paragon of patience but both their minds tending to the same point - one loving and desiring to esteem, and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed - they contrived in the end to reach it.
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You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
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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?
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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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