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Alas, for the effects of bad tea and bad temper!
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
Alas
Tea
Temper
Effects
More quotes by Emily Bronte
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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I understand that most ladies tend to prefer lap dogs.... Perhaps I am an exception.
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Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
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It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.
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I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
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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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But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm's length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest.
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You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
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Terror made me cruel.
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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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If I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it.
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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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The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child Forsake thy books, and mate less play And, while the night is gathering grey, We'll talk its pensive hours away.
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Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
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I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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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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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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And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?
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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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I have fled my country and gone to the heather.
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