They forgot everything the minute they were together again.

He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction, a look of hatred unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.

If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire

I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.

In secret pleasure — secret tears This changeful life has slipped away

The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.