Oh, For The Time When I Shall

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.

I Understand That Most Ladies Tend To Prefer Lap Dogs.... Perhaps I Am An Exception.

Terror Made Me Cruel.

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.

Yet I Was A Fool To Fancy For A Moment That She Valued Edgar Linton's Attachment More Than Mine -- If He Love With All The Powers Of His Puny Being, He Couldn't Love As Much In Eighty Years, As I Could In A Day. And Catherine Has A Heart As Deep As I Have; The Sea Could Be As Readily Contained In That Horse-trough, As Her Whole Affection Be Monopolized By Him -- Tush! He Is Scarcely A Degree Dearer To Her Than Her Dog, Or Her Horse -- It Is Not In Him To Be Loved Like Me, How Can She Love In Him What He Has Not?