He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Emily Brontë
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Emily Brontë, from “Wuthering Heights” originally published c. 1847
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[...] he's in my soul.
Emily Brontë, from ‘Wuthering Heights’
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Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a love is
to watch the year repeat its days.
Anne Carson, Glass, Irony, and God; from 'The Glass Essay' (1995.)
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I Gazed upon the Cloudless Moon
by Emily Brontë
I gazed upon the cloudless moon
And loved her all the night,
Till morning came and radiant noon,
And I forgot her light.
No, not forgot eternally
Beneath its mighty glare:
But could the day seem dark to me
Because the night was fair?
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“I could hardly let Emily go — I wanted to hold her back then — and I want her back hourly now.”
Charlotte Brontë, from a letter to W. S. Williams, talking about the death of her sister Emily
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Emily Brontë, from “Wuthering Heights”
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I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
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I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says – I love all his looks, and all his actions, and him entirely, and altogether.
Emily Brontë, from ‘Wuthering Heights’
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