It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,' he answered. 'Kiss me again; and donโt let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murdererโbut yours! How can I?
Emily BronteHeaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.
Emily BronteHe shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Emily BronteOh, Cathy! Oh, my life! how can I bear it?" was the first sentence he uttered, in a tone that did not seek to disguise his despair. And now he stared at her so earnestly that I thought the very intensity of his gaze would bring tears into his eyes; but they burned with anguish: they did not melt.
Emily Bronte