Wuthering Heights Emily brönte
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.
My love for Him resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
my great thought in living is himself. 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.
I can not express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of creation if I were entirely contained here?
a g ir l a g a in , h a a n d f r e e , a n d l f s ava g e a n d h a r dy , l au g h in g at in j u r ie s , n ot m a d d e n in g under them! d?
I w is h I w e r e
Why a m I s o c h a n ge
I have such faith in his love that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn’t wish to retaliate.
Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing.
I’m tired, tired of being enclosed here. 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.
the thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all.
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