“From the hour she came downstairs till the hour she went to bed, we had not a minute’s security that she wouldn’t be in mischief." Wuthering Heights
↳ Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
“He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine.”
Girls are cruelest to themselves.
Someone like Emily Brontë,
who remained a girl all her life despite her body as a woman,
had cruelty drifted up in all the cracks of her like spring snow.
We can see her ridding herself of it at various times
with a gesture like she used to brush the carpet.
Reason with him and then whip him!
was her instruction (age six) to her father
regarding brother Branwell.
And when she was 14 and bitten by a rabid dog she strode (they say)
into the kitchen and taking red hot tongs from the back of the stove applied
them directly to her arm.
Cauterization of Heathcliff took longer.
More than thirty years in the time of the novel,
from the April evening when he runs out the back door of the kitchen
and vanishes over the moor
because he overheard half a sentence of Catherine’s
(“It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff”)
until the wild morning
when the servant finds him stark dead and grinning
on his rainsoaked bed upstairs in Wuthering Heights.
Heathcliff is a pain devil.
If he had stayed in the kitchen
long enough to hear the other half of Catherine’s sentence
(“so he will never know how I love him”)
Heathcliff would have been set free.
But Emily knew how to catch a devil.
She put into him in place of a soul
the constant cold departure of Catherine from his nervous system
every time he drew a breath or moved thought.
She broke all his moments in half,
with the kitchen door standing open.
I am not unfamiliar with this half-life.
But there is more to it than that.
Favorite Authors [4, 5 - ?] ― Emily and Charlotte Brönte
“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.” ― Charlotte Brontë
Life on the Moors | A mix for the Brontë sisters: Charlotte, Emily, and Anne.
Opening: Life on the Moors // Dario Marianelli (Instrumental)
Charlotte: Winter Fields // Bat for Lashes | Loud and Clear // Unwoman | Nowhere to Go // Lisa Hannigan | Our Farewell // Within Temptation
Interlude: The Cellae // Jonna Enckell (Instrumental)
Emily: Shalott // Emilie Autumn | Ash Tree Lane // MS MR | The Moths Are Real // Serafina Steer | Fear and Loathing // Marina & the Diamonds
Interlude: 4 o’clock Reprise // Emilie Autumn (Instrumental)
Anne: Father Father // Susanne Sundfør | Morning Light // Priscilla Hernandez | The Rose // Sarah Slean | Eva // Nightwish
Closing: The Moors // Ruth Barrett (Instrumental)
I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind. And this is one: I’m going to tell it - but take care not to smile at any part of it.
Literature meme - [2/2] Deaths - Catherine Earnshaw-Linton (Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë)
'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. 'Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there—not in heaven—not perished—where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer—I repeat it till my tongue stiffens—Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! Icannot live without my soul!’
LITERATURE MEME | 7 characters - (5) catherine earnshaw from emily brontë’s wuthering heights
“I cannot 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 my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff’s miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: 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. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. 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.”
literary picspams → wuthering heights by emily brontë (@lessaofpern)I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.