Quotes By EMILY BRONTE

If rain drops were kisses, I'd send you showers. If hugs were seas, I'd send you oceans. And if love was a person I'd send you me! Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.

I'll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide: Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.

If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly.

I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

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.

I will walk where my own nature would be leading.

She burned too bright for this world.

No coward soul is mine.

Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.

I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.

I'm happiest when most away I can bear my soul from its home of clay On a windy night when the moon is bright And the eye can wander through worlds of light— When I am not and none beside— Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky— But only spirit wandering wide Through infinite immensity.

Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine -- If he love with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years, as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have; the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough, as her whole affection be monopolized by him -- Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse -- It is not in him to be loved like me, how can she love in him what he has not?

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!

However , it’s over, and I’ll take no revenge on his folly – I can afford to suffer anything, hereafter! Should the meanest thing alive slap me on the cheek, I’d not only turn the other, but I’d ask pardon for provoking it – and, as proof, I’ll go make my peace with Edgar instantly – Good night – I’m an angel!

Riches I hold in light esteem, And love I laugh to scorn, And lust of fame was but a dream That vanished with the morn. And if I pray, the only prayer That moves my lips for me Is, 'Leave the heart that now I bear, And give me liberty!' Yes, as my swift days near their goal, 'Tis all that I implore - In life and death, a chainless soul, With courage to endure.

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.

Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high, Or stooping low are lending A shelter from the sky. And there in those wild bowers A lovely form is laid; Green grass and dew-steeped flowers Wave gently round her head.