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It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.

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
Muttered
Company
Nothing
People

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You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
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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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Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?
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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 must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
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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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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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I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.
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Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
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No coward soul is mine.
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I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!
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wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
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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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Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
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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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How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
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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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My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
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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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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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