No Coward Soul Is Mine.

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.

It Was Not The Thorn Bending To The Honeysuckles, But The Honeysuckles Embracing The Thorn.

Earnsha Was Not To Be Civilized With A Wish, And My Young Lady Was No Philosopher, And No Paragon Of Patience; But Both Their Minds Tending To The Same Point - One Loving And Desiring To Esteem, And The Other Loving And Desiring To Be Esteemed - They Contrived In The End To Reach It.

My Love For Heathcliff Resembles The Eternal Rocks Beneath: A Source Of Little Visible Delight, But Necessary.

I Shouldn't Care What You Suffered. I Care Nothing For Your Sufferings. Why Shouldn't You Suffer? I Do! Will You Forget Me? Will You Be Happy When I Am In The Earth? Will You Say Twenty Years Hence, "that's The Grave Of Catherine Earnshaw? I Loved Her Long Ago, And Was Wretched To Lose Her; But It Is Past. I've Loved Many Others Since: My Children Are Dearer To Me Than She Was; And, At Death, I Shall Not Rejoice That I Am Going To Her: I Shall Be Sorry That I Must Leave Them!" Will You Say So, Heathcliff?