Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere.

I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now so he shall never know how I love him and that not because he's handsome Nelly but because he's more myself than I am. 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 love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.