Bront Sisters - Tumblr Posts
They are making a new version of Wuthering Heights and I WANT Jacob Anderson as Heathcliff more than I have ever wanted...
It’s the soprano Sofia Consoli’s American debut, her fifth stop in a 22-city tour, so the orchestra should be in excellent form. I have a private box, and I had tuxedos made.
JANE EYRE (2011) ✧ dir. Cary Joji Fukunaga
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.
Emily Brontë, Wuthering heights
This is my first post and I thought someone might be interested in my collection of copies of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. (I have 9 copies and counting). The oldest was published in 1944 and has some beautiful illustrations by Edward Wilson. A couple of them I’ve annotated, all of them I’ve read. Please don’t ask me to pick a favorite!
*squeals* cathy and heathcliff running around the heights and the moors with an half exasperated half angry nelly chasing after them.
"I was thinking, instead, of Emily Brontë's words: because he's more of myself than I am."
- Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman
“ I love him: and that, not because he is handsome, Nelly , but because he is more myself than i am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton’s is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire. ”
Emily Brontë , from , Wuthering Heights