I 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 Brontë

I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer - but yours! How can I?

You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!

The Night Is Darkening Round M

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.