I Am Now Quite Cured Of Seeking

He... Was Attached By Ties Stronger Than Reason Could Break -- Chains, Forged By Habit, Which It Would Be Cruel To Attempt To Loosen.

You Have Been Compelled To Cultivate Your Reflective Faculties, For Want Of Occasions For Frittering Your Life Away In Silly Trifles.

What Kind Of Living Will It Be When You - Oh, God! Would You Like To Live With Your Soul In The Grave?

The Intense Horror Of Nightmare Came Over Me: I Tried To Draw Back My Arm, But The Hand Clung To It, And A Most Melancholy Voice Sobbed, 'let Me In - Let Me In!' 'who Are You?' I Asked, Struggling, Meanwhile, To Disengage Myself. 'catherine Linton,' It Replied, Shiveringly (why Did I Think Of Linton? I Had Read Earnshaw Twenty Times For Linton) - 'i'm Come Home: I'd Lost My Way On The Moor!' As It Spoke, I Discerned, Obscurely, A Child's Face Looking Through The Window.

I'll Be As Dirty As I Please, And I Like To Be Dirty, And I Will Be Dirty!