“A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly.”

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?

Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world’s tide is bearing me along; Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.

May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.

She burned too bright for this world.

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

I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.

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?

I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.

If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.

You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!

I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.

Terror made me cruel; and finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes.

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

I still find myself searching the crowds for your face.

When people see an actor speak, they think they know him or her, whereas I’m just a face or a body to them.

People who cannot see through souls will keep searching for beauty in faces and will never find it.

This is face blindness, but not really it. Among all the faces I see, I could only see yours.

You can be a pretty face, but if you’re not a nice person, it just doesn’t work.

I wish to meet you when you madly dance in the rain, sipping on whiskey, feeling every drop touching your beautiful face.

Ego is a false mask, it hides your original face.

Through my up and down I keep a big smile on my face because I know I’m blessed to be alive.