Proud People Breed Sad Sorrows For Themselves.

Nonsense, Do You Imagine He Has Thought As Much Of You As You Have Of Him?

He Had The Hypocrisy To Represent A Mourner: And Previous To Following With Hareton, He Lifted The Unfortunate Child On To The Table And Muttered, With Peculiar Gusto, 'now, My Bonny Lad, You Are Mine! And We'll See If One Tree Won't Grow As Crooked As Another, With The Same Wind To Twist It!

Treachery And Violence Are Spears Pointed At Both Ends; They Wound Those Who Resort To Them Worse Than Their Enemies.

You Must Forgive Me, For I Struggled Only For You.

The Old Church Tower And Garden Wall Are Black With Autumn Rain And Dreary Winds Foreboding Call The Darkness Down Again