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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.

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
Attached
Reason
Cruel
Would
Ties
Chains
Attempt
Stronger
Habit
Loosen
Forged
Break

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Honest people don't hide their deeds.
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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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In secret pleasure — secret tears This changeful life has slipped away
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Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.
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I have fled my country and gone to the heather.
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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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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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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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My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will changeit,I'mwellaware, aswinterchangesthetrees. My Love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneatha source of little visible delight but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff.
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And from the midst of cheerless gloom I passed to bright unclouded day.
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The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again
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The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.
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I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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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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No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere.
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He’s more myself than I am
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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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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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I understand that most ladies tend to prefer lap dogs.... Perhaps I am an exception.
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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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