He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
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.
Be with me always – take any form – drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!
If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.
If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.
I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.
Nelly, I am Heathcliff – he’s always, always in my mind – not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself – but, as my own being.
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.
And from the midst of cheerless gloomI passed to bright unclouded day.
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?
No coward soul is mine,No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere:I see heaven’s glories shine,And faith shines equal, arming me from fear
Hereafter she is only my sister in name; not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.
The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
Good words,” I replied. “But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don’t forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear.
Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.
The nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her
A person who has not done one half his day’s work by ten o’clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.
… He spoke in the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure amid perils and foes, where his remembered words would be the only aid he could bequeath to guide her.
… You are ignorant of the duties you undertake in marrying…
I have not broken your heart – you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart: but really with it, and in it.
Come in! come in !’ he sobbed.‘Cathy, do come. Oh do -once more! Oh! my heart’s darling! hear me this time – Catherine, at last!
No parson in the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk
Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.
He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!
But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm’s length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I’ll rest.
Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes.
You may fancy a glimpse of the abyss where I grovelled!
THEY are afraid of nothing,’ I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. ‘Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions.
He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction, a look of hatred unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.
… You have a heart and nerves the same as your brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them?
He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.
I wish I could hold you,” she continued bitterly, “till we were both dead!
It is strange people should be so greedy when they are alone in the world!
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.
I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.
To sneer at his imperfect attempt was very bad breeding.
And I am weary of the anguishIncreasing winters bear;Weary to watch the spirit languishThrough years of dead despair.So, if a tear, when thou art dying,Should haply fall from me,It is but that my soul is sighing,To go and rest with thee.
I’d be glad of a retaliation that wouldn’t recoil on myself; but treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends: they wound those who resort to them, worse than their enemies.
However miserable you make us, we shall still have the revenge of thinking that your cruelty arises from your greater misery.
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
Their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw.
As different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.
For the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it.
When I asked her what was the matter? answered, she didn’t know; but she felt so afraid of dying!
… I love him… not because he’s handsome… but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same…
I have not broken your heart – you have broken it – and in breaking it, you have broken mine … I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer – but yours! How can I?
I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer – but yours! How can I?
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living
I’ll not do anything, though you should swear your tongue out, except what I please!
You shall not leave me in that temper.I should be miserable all night, and I won’t be miserable for you!
It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.
But I begin to fancy you don’t like me. How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me. (Catherine Linton, nee Earnshaw)