Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

That is how I'm loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he's in my soul.

She burned too bright for this world.

You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.

Terror made me cruel.

It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.

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.