And from the midst of cheerless gloom I passed to bright unclouded day.

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

Oh, I'm burning! I wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed?

They forgot everything the minute they were together again.

The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn against him, they crush those beneath them.

A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.

I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.