The verb 'break' is one of the most fundamental physical-action words in English, naming the act of separating something into pieces by force. Its etymology is unusually transparent: the word has meant 'to break' at every stage of its history, from Proto-Indo-European to the present day, making it a rare example of multi-millennial semantic stability.
Old English 'brecan' was a Class IV strong verb (brecan/bræc/brǣcon/brocen), meaning 'to break, to shatter, to burst, to destroy, to violate (a law or oath).' The verb was both transitive (break a pot) and intransitive (the rope breaks), a dual usage that has persisted into modern English. The range of meanings was already extensive: physical breaking, the breaking of promises and laws, the breaking of dawn, and the breaking of resistance.
The Proto-Germanic form *brekaną is attested across the family: Old High German 'brehhan' (modern German 'brechen'), Old Saxon 'brekan,' Old Norse 'brjóta' (with a different suffix but the same root), Old Frisian 'breka,' and Dutch 'breken.' All mean 'to break' in both literal and figurative senses. German 'brechen' has additionally developed the meaning 'to vomit' (to break forth from the stomach), a usage that existed in older English as well — 'break' as a euphemism for vomiting is attested in Middle English.
The PIE root *bhreg- meant simply 'to break,' and its reflexes across the Indo-European family confirm this. The most important cognate outside Germanic is Latin 'frangere' (to break), which underwent the regular PIE-to-Latin sound changes: initial *bh became Latin f, and the vowel was modified. From 'frangere' English acquired, through French and learned Latin borrowing, an entire family of words: 'fracture' (a break), 'fraction' (a breaking into parts — originally a religious term for the breaking of communion bread), 'fragment' (a broken piece), 'fragile' (easily broken), 'frail' (fragile, from the Old French form of Latin 'fragilis'), 'infraction' (a breaking of a rule), and 'refraction' (a bending or 'breaking' of light). These Latinate words are all cousins of native 'break,' united by the same ancient root but arrived in English
The strong verb conjugation of 'break' has been well preserved: break/broke/broken. The past tense 'broke' continues the Middle English development of Old English 'bræc,' and the past participle 'broken' preserves the '-en' suffix and the /o/ vowel of Old English 'brocen.' The present tense vowel /eɪ/ (from Old English long /ɛː/, itself from earlier short /e/ lengthened in open syllables in Middle English) underwent the Great Vowel Shift, raising from /ɛː/ to /eɪ/. This is the same development seen in 'speak' (from Old English 'sprecan') and 'steal' (from 'stelan').
The word 'breach' — meaning a break in a wall, a violation of duty, or a rupture in relations — is a doublet of 'break.' It comes from Old English 'bryce' (a breaking) and was reinforced by Old French 'breche' (a break, gap), itself of Germanic origin (from Frankish *breka). So 'breach' is the same Germanic root borrowed into French and then borrowed back into English, wearing different phonological clothing.
'Brittle' is also related, from Old English 'brytel' (fragile, apt to break), formed from the same root with an adjectival suffix. A brittle thing is, etymologically, a breakable thing.
The compound words and phrasal verbs built on 'break' are extraordinarily productive. 'Breakdown' (a collapse or analysis), 'breakthrough' (a sudden advance), 'breakout' (an escape), 'outbreak' (a sudden occurrence), 'breakaway' (a separation), 'breakfast' (the meal that breaks the overnight fast), 'breakneck' (at a speed that could break one's neck), 'heartbreak,' 'jailbreak,' 'daybreak,' 'icebreaker' — the list is extensive and continues to grow. Each compound exploits a different metaphorical dimension of breaking.
The noun 'break' (a pause, an interruption) developed from the verb during the Middle English period. A 'break' in work is an interruption in continuity — the same concept as a physical break, applied to time rather than matter. 'Give me a break' (first attested in the mid-twentieth century as a plea for relief or an expression of disbelief) further extends this into the social domain.
The metaphorical reach of 'break' is vast. You can break a record (exceed it, as if shattering its limit), break the news (deliver it, as if rupturing someone's ignorance), break a habit (end it), break ground (begin construction), break even (reach equilibrium), break the ice (initiate social interaction), break ranks (diverge from a group), or break someone's heart. In each case, the physical concept of separation or rupture is mapped onto an abstract domain, and in each case the metaphor is immediately comprehensible — testimony to the conceptual power of a word that has named the same fundamental act since before the pyramids were built.