I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat! — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered. — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“But no brutality disgusted her: I suppose she has an innate admiration for it, if only her precious person were secure from… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“invariably to me, I know, and to any person who saw her, I should think--refuted more tangible proofs of convalescence, and stamped… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main. — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“What is that apathetic being doing?' she demanded, pushing the thick entangled locks from her wasted face. 'Has he fallen into a… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“and firstly, let me beware of the fascination that lurks in Catherine Heathcliff's brilliant eyes. I should be in a curious taking… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“She had her own opinions on every subject, and kept steadily to them--very tiresome opinions they often were; as she was always… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
Riches I hold in light esteem, And love I laugh to scorn, And lust of fame was but a dream That vanished… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
Lines I die but when the grave shall press The heart so long endeared to thee When earthy cares no more distress… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
“She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they would… — Emily Brontë Copy Share Image
And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine -- If he… — Emily Bronte Copy Share Image
He is more myself than I am. Whatever our two souls are made of, his and mine are the same. — Emily Bronte Copy Share
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow; I shall sing when night's decay Ushers in a drearier day. — Emily Brontë Copy Share
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… — Emily Bronte Copy Share
“I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I… — Emily Brontë Copy Share
The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her. — Emily Bronte Copy Share
“Papa talks enough of my defects, and shows enough scorn of me, to make it natural I should doubt myself. I doubt whether I… — Emily Brontë Copy Share
The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most… — Emily Bronte Copy Share
“It is not in him to be loved like me: how can she love in him what he has not?” — Emily Brontë Copy Share
I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing. — Emily Bronte Copy Share
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. — Emily Bronte Copy Share
Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are… — Emily Bronte Copy Share
“It expressed, plainer than words could do, the intense anguish at having made himself the instrument of thwarting his own revenge. Had it been… — Emily Brontë Copy Share
