Ties Stronger

“He… was attached by ties stronger than reason could break — chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.” Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Such Baubles

“She spoke of these with animation, and heard my admiring comments with a smile of pleasure: that soon, however, vanished, and was followed by a melancholy sigh; as if in consideration of the insufficiency of all such baubles to the happiness of the human heart, and their woeful inability to supply its insatiate demands.” Anges Grey by Anne Bronte

Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters links for February 10, 2019

Image for Austentatious Links

What’s happening this week in the Austen and Bronte universes:

Excellent Library

“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! — When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Whatever Relation

“I’ll go with him as far as the park,’ he said. ‘You’ll go with him to hell!’ exclaimed his master,” or whatever relation he bore.” Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Long Oppressed

“When we are harassed by sorrows or anxieties, or long oppressed by any powerful feelings which we must keep to ourselves, for which we can obtain and seek no sympathy from any living creature, and which yet we cannot, or will not wholly crush, we often naturally seek relief in poetry— and often find it, too— whether in the effusions of others, which seem to harmonize with our existing case, or in our own attempts to give utterance to those thoughts and feelings in strains less musical, perchance, but more appropriate, and therefore more penetrating and sympathetic, and, for the time, more soothing, or more powerful to rouse and to unburden the oppressed and swollen heart.” Anges Grey by Anne Bronte

Lengthen Night and Shorten Day

“Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
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.” Bronte: Poems by Emily Bronte