Honest People Don't Hide Their Deeds.

I Have Lost The Faculty Of Enjoying Their Destruction, And I Am Too Idle To Destroy For Nothing.

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'll Walk Where My Own Nature Would Be Leading: It Vexes Me To Choose Another Guide: Where The Grey Flocks In Ferny Glens Are Feeding; Where The Wild Wind Blows On The Mountain-side.

The Tyrant Grinds Down His Slaves And They Don't Turn Against Him, They Crush Those Beneath Them.

And, Even Yet, I Dare Not Let It Languish, Dare Not Indulge In Memory's Rapturous Pain; Once Drinking Deep Of That Divinest Anguish, How Could I Seek The Empty World Again?