Quotes from Emily Bronte

Hope, whose whisper would have given Balm to all my frenzied pain, Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven, Went, and ne'er returned again!

He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Let grief distract the sufferer's breast, And night obscure his way; They hasten him to endless rest, And everlasting day.

Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe; It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe.

I am the only being whose doom No tongue would ask no eye would mourn I never caused a thought of gloom A smile of joy since I was born In secret pleasure -- secret tears This changeful life has slipped away As friendless after eighteen years As lone as on my natal day.

I have no pity! The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain.

Sleep not, dream not; this bright dayWill not, cannot last for aye;Bliss like thine is bought by yearsDark with torment and with tears.

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,How could I seek the empty world again?

No coward soul is mine,No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:I see Heaven's glories shine,And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

[Said by Catherine:] I am Heathcliff.

Yes, as my swift days near their goal,'Tis all that I implore:In life and death a chainless soul,With courage to endure.

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day! Every leaf speaks bliss to me, Fluttering from the autumn tree...

I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.

I'll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide.

Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity.

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.

Love is like the wild-rose briar; Friendship is like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms, But which will bloom most constantly?

...I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow...

There is not room for Death.

Having leveled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home.

Vain are the thousand creeds that move men's hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, or idlest froth amid the boundless main.

She burned too bright for this world.

Terror made me cruel . . .

It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.