I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.
Emily BronteRead
He had the hypocrisy to represent a mourner: and previous to following with Hareton, he lifted the unfortunate child on to the table and muttered, with peculiar gusto, 'Now, my bonny lad, you are mine! And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects the idea of environmental influence on a person's character and the hypocrisy of those who manipulate emotions for their gain.
In this quote, Emily Bronte illustrates a deep philosophical perspective on how external circumstances shape individuals, suggesting that just as a tree grows crooked under the same wind, so too can people become similarly flawed due to their surroundings. The speaker's hypocrisy in representing sorrowful emotions while directly manipulating a child highlights the duality of human nature, where appearances often mask deeper intentions.
Themes
HypocrisyInfluenceCharacterEnvironmentManipulation
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a debate about nature versus nurture in psychology classes.
More from Emily Bronte
All quotes βI ran to the children's room: their door was ajar, I saw they had never laid down, though it was past midnight; but they were calmer, and did not need me to console them. The little souls were comforting each other with better thoughts than I could have hit on: no parson in the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk; and, while I sobbed, and listened. I could not help wishing we were all there safe together.
Emily BronteRead
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.
Emily BronteRead
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Emily BronteRead
He had been content with daily labour and rough animal enjoyments, 'till Catherine crossed his path. Shame at her scorn, and hope of her approval, were his first prompts to higher pursuits; and, instead of guarding him from one and winning him to the other, his endeavors to raise himself had produced just the contrary result.
Emily BronteRead
And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?
Emily BronteRead
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