There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.
Emily BronteI pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.
Emily BronteHow strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
Emily BronteThe old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again
Emily Bronte