Emily Jane Brontë Quotes

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.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British poet, novelist. The Prisoner (l. 1-4). . . Attributed to "Ellis Bell" (pseud.) Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
(1) (0)
Silent is the house: all are laid asleep: One alone looks out o'er the snow-wreaths deep, Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze That whirls the 'wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British poet, novelist. The Visionary (l. 1-5). . . Attributed to "Ellis Bell" (pseud.) New Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1950. Helen Gardner, ed. (1972) Oxford University Press.
(2) (0)
Having levelled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist, poet. Catherine, in Wuthering Heights, ch. 11 (1847). Said to Heathcliff, who had accused her of treating him impersonally.
(33) (16)
If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it.... My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath—a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff—he's always, always in my mind—not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself—but as my own being.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist, poet. Catherine, in Wuthering Heights, ch. 9 (1847).
(2) (0)
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist, poet. Ellen Dean, in Wuthering Heights, ch. 13 (1847). Said of a letter she has received from Isabella, unhappily married to Heathcliff.
(28) (16)
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 (1818-1848), British poet, novelist. Fall, Leaves, Fall (l. 5-8). . . Attributed to "Ellis Bell" (pseud.) Oxford Book of Short Poems, The. P. J. Kavanagh and James Michie, eds. Oxford University Press.
(1) (0)
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist, poet. Heathcliff, in Wuthering Heights, ch. 11 (1847).
(22) (10)
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist. Last Lines.
(2) (0)
Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, But which will bloom most constantly?
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist. Love and Friendship (1846).
(1) (0)
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), British novelist, poet. Mr. Lockwood, in Wuthering Heights, ch. 3 (1847).
(28) (12)