A Quote by Emily Bronte

I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free. — © Emily Bronte
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.
Oh, I'm burning! I wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed?
I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... Why am I so changed? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.
I always resented Tom [Hardy] for turning up on Band Of Brothers and getting the girl — in fact, the only girl in a cast of hundreds of smelly men! I, on the other hand, spent eight months with my face squashed up against someone else’s backside in one sodden trench after another. And it looks as if Tom might have got the girl again [in Colditz], damn his eyes.
I sort of half read Thomas Hardy's 'The Mayor of Casterbridge.' It was assigned in 10th grade, and I just couldn't get into it. About seven years later, I rediscovered Hardy and consumed four of his novels in a row.
Sometimes, I wish we were all amateurs again. I'd play for nothing. Ab-so-lute-ly free. But that's not the system.
It's so easy for 16-year-olds, including myself, to say, 'I just wish I were an adult.' But we can't wish our lives away. When we're adults, we'll say, 'I wish I were 16 again.'
What a terrible thing could be freedom. Trees were free when they were uprooted by the wind; ships were free when they were torn from their moorings; men were free when they were cast out of their homes—free to starve, free to perish of cold and hunger.
I wish it were September 1948 and I wish I were 21 again.
We all wish we were better. I wish I were a better artist, wish I were a kinder person, wish I were all kinds of things. But we're stuck with ourselves. I have good friends. And that in itself convinces me that I deserve to live.
Mine was, as it were, the connecting link between wild and cultivated fields; as some states are civilized, and others half-civilized, and others savage or barbarous, so my field was, though not in a bad sense, a half-cultivated field. They were beans cheerfully returning to their wild and primitive state that I cultivated, and my hoe played the Ranz des Vaches for them.
She wrote, I wish I could be a girl again, with a chance to live my life again. I have suffered so much more than I needed to. And the joys I have felt have not always been joyous. I could have lived differently.
I don't know a single black girl who's carefree because it ain't easy being a girl of color, period. God, I wish we were carefree.
I will never look at you in the same way ever again. I'll never be that girl again. The girl who comes running back every time you push her away, the girl who loves you anyway.
Drinking made me a lot more free sexually; the restrictions were off. I was a compulsive, compliant 'good girl' by day and a 'bad girl' at night.
Yes," I said "You were saved by a girl. Horrible, isn't it?" He slid out and looked down at my bare legs. "Not just a girl, but a half-naked one. Now that's hot. If I'm still unconscious, don't wake me, okay?
I wish more and more that health were studied half as much as disease is. Why, with all the endowment of research against cancer, is no study made of those who are free from cancer? Why not inquire what foods they eat, what habits of body and mind they cultivate?
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!