It Is Strange People Should Be So

Hush, My Darling! Hush, Hush, Catherine! I'll Stay. If He Shot Me So, I'd Expire With A Blessing On My Lips.

I Have No Pity! I Have No Pity! The More Worms Writhe, The More I Yearn To Crush Out Their Entrails! It Is A Moral Teething, And I Grind With Greater Energy, In Proportion To The Increase Of Pain.

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?

That Is How I'm Loved! Well, Never Mind. That Is Not My Heathcliff. I Shall Love Mine Yet; And Take Him With Me: He's In My Soul.

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same.