“You know, I’ve had a bitter, hard life since I last heard your voice and if I’ve survived it’s all because of you.”

I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.

Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.

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

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

Good words,” I replied. “But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don’t forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear.

Be with me always – take any form – drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!

Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.

Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?

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

I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.

You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!

We must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.

Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!

Hereafter she is only my sister in name; not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.

I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!

Bitterness leads nowhere. It turns back on itself. It is the eternal cul-de-sac.

I’m not bitter. Why should I be bitter? I’m thrilled to death with life.

Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become.

This world is a bitter tree, it has only two sweet nectar like fruits – one is soft voice and the other is company of gentlemen.

After a while the eye candy I used to crave became bitter to taste.

Holy shadows of the dead, I am not to blame for your cruel and bitter fate, but the accursed rivalry which brought sister nations and brother people to fight one another.

Don’t be afraid of the heat, it’s just the fire blazing inside my heart. I can warm up the room and thaw away at the bitter and cold parts of you.

On bitter autumn nights your name lies at the tip of my tongue, as silent memories of us come to haunt me.