Worthless As Wither'd Weeds.

You're Hard To Please: So Many Friends And So Few Cares, And Can't Make Yourself Content.

In Secret Pleasure — Secret Tears This Changeful Life Has Slipped Away

The Night Is Darkening Round Me, The Wild Winds Coldly Blow; But A Tyrant Spell Has Bound Me And I Cannot, Cannot Go. The Giant Trees Are Bending Their Bare Boughs Weighed With Snow; The Storm Is Fast Descending, And Yet I Cannot Go. Clouds Beyond Clouds Above Me, Wastes Beyond Wastes Below; But Nothing Drear Can Move Me; I Will Not, Cannot Go.

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?

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