Linton Quotes

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Healthcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will did it. I have no broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! would you like to lie with your soul in the grave?

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

You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine." ~Heathcliff

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.

In the nonstop tsunami of global information, librarians provide us with floaties and teach us to swim.

But I begin to fancy you don't like me. How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me. (Catherine Linton, nee Earnshaw)

Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine -- If he love with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years, as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have; the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough, as her whole affection be monopolized by him -- Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse -- It is not in him to be loved like me, how can she love in him what he has not?

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.

Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!' he said. 'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!

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'm not going to act the lady among you, for fear I should starve .

I didn't want him to become gray and multi-dimensional and complicated like everyone else. Was every Heathcliff a Linton in disguise?

If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes trees. My love for Heatcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

I got the sexton, who was digging Linton’s grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there, when I saw her face again—it is hers yet—he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change, if the air blew on it...

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and, if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the Universe would turn into a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff [...]

The first dance for the first woman I knew, the last one for the last. You may not have been the first woman in my life, Miss Linton - but I promise you, you will be the last. There won't be anyone else as long as I live.

Is she sane?’ asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. ‘I’ll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it could have had for you.

You have a strange definition of “fun”, Mr Linton.’ ‘And you don't have one at all.’ ‘Mr Linton?’ ‘Yes, Sir?’ ‘Be quiet.’ ‘Yes, Sir!

Mr. Linton?" "Yes, Sir?" "You do know what I would do if you ever lied to me, don't you?" "Err... no?" "Good. Keep wondering.

I was only going to say that 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 my out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. 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, but because he's more myself than I am. What ever 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.' Ere this speech ended, I became sensible of Heathcliff's presence. Having noticed a slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him rise from the bench, and steal out noiselessly. He had listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed to hear no further.

You are worth it! You may be a stubborn, chauvinistic, cold-hearted, ruthless, self-righteous son of a bachelor-" "Don't flatter me too much, Miss Linton." "-but you're a good man. Well, to me, anyway. Sometimes. Mostly." "Are you quite sure that you are in love with me?" "Yes!" "Just checking.

In the nonstop tsunami of global information, librarians provide us with floaties and teach us how to swim." -- Linton Weeks, Washington Post, Jan. 13, 2001.

Nu ştiu din ce sunt plămădite sufletele noastre, dar ştiu că al lui şi al meu sunt la fel. (...) Iubirea mea pentru Linton seamănă cu frunzele pădurii, timpul o va schimba, îmi dau bine seama, aşa cum iarna schimbă pomii. Iubirea mea pentru Heathcliff însă e asemeni stâncilor eterne de sub pământ: nu prilej de încântare, ci necesitate.

Two words would comprehend my future—death and hell: existence, after losing her, would be hell. Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton’s attachment more than mine. If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have: the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough as her whole affection be monopolised by him. Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse. It is not in him to be loved like me: how can she love in him what he has not?

Was every Heathcliff a Linton in disguise?

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees — my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath — a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff — he's always, always in my mind — not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself — but as my own being — so, don't talk of our separation again — it is impracticable.

We fight not for glory nor for wealth nor honours; but only and alone we fight for freedom, which no good man surrenders but with his life.

Knowledge is power is time is money.

You loved me—then what right had you to leave me? What right—answer me—for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you—oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?

Critasism is just a way of saying i'm jelous of your talents

The guest was now the master of Wuthering Heights: he held firm possession, and proved to the attorney, who, in his turn, proved it to Mr. Linton, that Earnshaw had mortaged every yard of land he owned for cash to supply his mania for gaming; and he, Heathcliff, was the mortgagee. In that manner, Hareton, who should now be the first gentleman in the neighbourhood, was reduced to a state of complete dependence on his father's inveterate enemy; and lives in his own house as a servant deprived of the advantage of wages, and quite unable to right himself, because of his friendlessness, and his ignorance that he has been wronged.

Far rather would I be condemned to a perpetual dwelling in the infernal regions, than, even for one night, abide beneath the roof of Wuthering Heights again.

◦“Does that ass of yours repel bullets now?” I asked, eyeballing the blonde nurse.- Laneyism

Seja qual for a matéria de que as nossas almas são feitas, a minha e a dele são iguais, e a do Linton é tão diferente delas como um raio de lua de um relâmpago, ou a geada do fogo.

I am not a man who often expresses is emotions, Miss Linton." "You don't say?" "But I must admit I was... somewhat concerned for you." I had to work hard to keep a smile from my face." "Somewhat concerned? Dear God, really?" Abruptly, he turned to me, his eyes blazing with cold fire. "Dammit! Do not joke, Miss Linton!" I looked up at him, the picture of innocence drawn by a five-year-old with absolutely no artistic talent. "I wouldn't dare!" Stepping towards me, he reached out, until one of his hands gently touched my cheek. "I..." He swallowed, and tried again. "I might be slightly... irrationally infatuated with you." Warmth spread deep inside me. And on my face, a grin did. "Irrationally infatuated? Dear me!" His jaw clenched. "All right, all right! I may even have certain... impulses towards you that border on caring about you." "You don't say?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I am so glad to hear that you feel a certain amount of friendship towards me." His dark gaze pierced me accusingly. But I was enjoying this far too much to stop. I wouldn't make it easy for him. "Friendship is not the right word, Miss Linton," he bit out between clenched teeth, every word like a shard of burning ice. "My impulses towards you... they might go slightly beyond the platonic." "Oh, so they are Aristotelian?" "Mr Lin-" He swallowed, hard. "I mean Miss Linton, we are not discussing philosophy here!" I batted my eyelashes at him. "Indeed? Then pray tell, what are we discussing?" "I... I..." "You can say it, you know," I told him. "The word isn't poisonous." "I... have feelings towards you." "Clearly. I knew that from the first day from the way you shouted at me and pelted me with threats." "Not those kinds of feelings!" "What kind, then?" "I feel... affection towards you." "You're nearly there," I encouraged him, my smile widening. "Just four little letters. The word starts with L. Go on. You can do it." "You're enjoying this, Miss Linton, aren't you?" "Very much so." "Oh, to hell with it!"... His mouth took mine in a fast, fierce, bruising kiss... Finally he broke away, and with the remnants of his breath whispered: "I love you!

Bad floor! Bad! Just because drunk people always end up drooling on you, that’s no reason to be vindictive. How could you want to hurt those cute little piggies? Can’t you see how well they dance?’ ‘Mr Linton, I think I’d better get you upstairs to your room.’ ‘No! I need to have a serious talk with this floor.’ ‘There’s plenty of floor upstairs, Mr Linton.’ Really? Damn! This was a conspiracy.

Then you believe I care more for my own feelings than yours, Cathy?" he said. "No, it was not because I disliked Mr. Healthcliff, but because Mr. Healthcliff dislikes me and is a most diabolical man, delighting to wrong and ruin those he hates, if they give him the slightest opportunity. I knew that you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin without being brought into contact with him; and I knew he would detest you, on my account; so for your own good, and nothing else, I took precautions that you should not see Linton again.

Ah! you are come, are you, Edgar Linton?' she said, with angry animation. 'You are one of those things that are ever found when least wanted, and when you are wanted, never! I suppose we shall have plenty of lamentations now - I see we shall - but they can't keep me from my narrow home out yonder: my resting-place, where I'm bound before spring is over! There it is: not among the Lintons, mind, under the chapel-roof, but in the open air, with a head-stone; and you may please yourself whether you go to them or come to me!

You shall not leave me in that temper. I should be miserable all night, and I won’t be miserable for you!

Ah, vieste não é, Edgar Linton? - disse, com irada excitação.- És uma dessas coisas que sempre encontramos quando menos as queremos, e que quando são desejadas, nunca se encontram!

for every thought she spends on Linton, she spends a thousand on me!

Så han kommer aldrig att få veta hur mycket jag älskar honom - inte för att han är vacker, Nelly, utan för att han är mera jag än jag själv är. Vad våra själar än är gjorda av så är de av samma slag, och Lintons själ liknar dem lika lite som en månstråle liknar blixten och frosten liknar elden.

I used to draw a comparison between him, and Hindley Earnshaw, and perplex myself to explain satisfactorily, why their conduct was so opposite in similar circumstances. They had both been fond husbands, and were both attached to their children; and I could not see how they shouldn't both have taken the same road, for good or evil. But, I thought in my mind, Hindley, with apparently the stronger head, has shown himself sadly the worse and the weaker man. When his ship struck, the captain abandoned his post; and the crew, instead of trying to save her, rushed into riot, and confusion, leaving no hope for their luckless vessel. Linton, on the contrary, displayed the true courage of a loyal and faithful soul: he trusted God; and God comforted him. One hoped, and the other despaired; they chose their own lots, and were righteously doomed to endure them.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees.  My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees.  My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. 

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary."?

Mi amor por Linton es cómo la maleza de los bosques: el tiempo lo cambiará, yo ya sé que el invierno muda los árboles. Mi amor por Heathcliff se parece a las eternas rocas profundas, es fuente de escaso placer visible, pero necesario.

Gettin’ old is shit, kid. Avoid that as long as ya can!

Have faith and Believe and you will Succeed.

like I was back to being the girl folks gossiped about on Friday afternoon while tossing back a cold one, then prayed for over the Sunday potluck.

Ce n'est pas plus mon affaire d'épouser Edgar Linton que d'être au ciel; et si l'individu pervers qui est ici n'avait pas ainsi dégradé Heathcliff, je n'y aurais jamais songé. Ce serait me dégrader moi-même, maintenant, que d'épouser Heathcliff. Aussi ne saura-t-il jamais comme je l'aime; et cela, non parce qu'il est beau, Nelly, mais parce qu'il est plus moi-même que je ne le suis. De quoi que soient faites nos âmes, la sienne et la mienne sont pareilles et celle de Linton est aussi différente des nôtres qu'un rayon de lune d'un éclair ou que la gelée du feu.

[The] tremendous and still accelerating development of science and technology has not been accompanied by an equal development in social, economic, and political patterns...We are now...only beginning to explore the potentialities which it offers for developments in our culture outside technology, particularly in the social, political and economic fields. It is safe to predict that...such social inventions as modern-type Capitalism, Fascism, and Communism will be regarded as primitive experiments directed toward the adjustment of modern society to modern methods

Heathcliff, if I were you, I’d go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life: I can’t imagine how you think of surviving her loss.

por isso ele nunca saberá o quanto o amo: e não por ele ser bonito, Nelly, mas por ele ser mais eu, do que eu própria. Não sei de que são feitas as nossas almas, mas elas são iguais; e a de Linton é tão diferente da minha quanto um raio de lua é diferente de um relâmpago, ou o fogo do gelo.

Meine Liebe zu Linton ist wie das Laub der Wälder. Sie unterliegt dem Wandel der Zeit, das weiß ich sehr wohl, so wie der Winter die Bäume verwandelt, doch meine Liebe zu Heathcliff gleicht dem Felsen darunter - sie ist ein Quell kaum wahrnehmbarer Freuden, aber ohne sie kann ich nicht sein.

Throughout 150 years of the science of bacteriology, there is no evidence that one species of bacteria has changed into another... Since there is no evidence for species changes between the simplest forms of unicellular life, it is not surprising that there is no evidence for evolution from prokaryotic [i.e., bacterial] to eukaryotic [i.e., plant and animal] cells, let alone throughout the whole array of higher multicellular organisms.

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.

Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair, 'if I could only get papa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you - Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother.' 'And then you would like me as well as your father?' observed he more cheerfully. 'But papa says you would love me better than him, and all the world, if you were my wife-so I'd rather you were that!' 'No! I should never love anybody better than papa,' she returned gravely. 'And people hate their wives, sometimes; but not their sisters and brothers, and if you were the latter, you would live with us, and papa would be as fond of you, as he is of me.

And cried for mamma, at every turn'-I added, 'and trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain.-Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes, and those thick brows, that instead of rising arched, sink in the middle, and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil's spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes-Don't get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its desert, and yet, hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.' 'In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes, and even forehead,' he replied. 'I do - and that won't help me to them.' 'A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,' I continued, 'if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking - tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows, but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them able to buy up, with one week's income, Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors, and brought to England. Were I in your place, I would frame high notions of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!

Please write to him (I said please, but that’s an order).

Prayer is an inner journey, the ultimate destination of self-discovery rather than a desired destination.

The last thing a fish would ever notice would be water.

The extra padding in my bra wasn’t doing much to hide my bullet-like nipples." -Laneyism

But that luxury had just imploded faster than a two dollar hooker takes to her knees.” -Laneyism

Every Linton on the face of the Earth could melt into nothing before I’d agree to give up Heathcliff.

You loved me - then what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that god or satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. - Heathcliff

I left her, as merry as she could be, dividing her food between the little dog and Skulker, whose nose she pinched as he ate; and kindling a spark of spirit in the vacant blue eyes of the Lintons—a dim reflection from her own enchanting face. I saw they were full of stupid admiration; she is so immeasurably superior to them—to everybody on earth, is she not, Nelly?

Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of and he had evidently great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation. His lack of interest in the subjects she started, and his equal incapacity to contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that she could not conceal her disappointment. An indefinite alteration had come over his whole person and manner. The pettishness that might be caressed into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy; there was less of the peevish temper of a child which frets and teases on purpose to be soothed, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid, repelling consolation, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult. Catherine perceived, as well as I did, that he held it rather a punishment, than a gratification, to endure our company.

Ahora me doy cuenta de lo cruel que has sido conmigo, de lo falsa y cruel que has sido. ¿Por qué me despreciaste? ¿Por qué traicionaste, Cathy, a tu propio corazón? No puedo tener una sola palabra de consuelo para tí; te mereces lo que te pasa. Eres tú quien se ha matado a sí misma. Sí, puedes abrazarme y llorar cuanto quieras, puedes provocar mis lágrimas y mis besos, pero ellos serán tu ruina y tu perdición. Si me amabas, ¿en nombre de qué ley me abandonaste? ¿En nombre de la mezquina ilusión que despertó en ti Linton? Dímelo. Porque tú misma, por voluntad propia, hiciste lo que ni la desgracia, ni el envilecimiento, no la muerte, ni nada de lo que Dios o el Diablo nos pudieran infligir habría logrado en su empeño de separarnos. No he sido yo quien ha roto tu corazón, te lo has roto tú misma, y al hacerlo has destrozado, de paso, el mío. Y la peor parte me toca a mí, porque aún tengo fortaleza. ¿Crees que me apetece vivir? ¿Qué clase de vida podrá ser la mía cuando tú...? ¡Oh, Dios Mío! ¿Acaso te gustaría a ti vivir si te encerraran el alma en una tumba?»

I see now you think me a selfish wretch; but did it never strike you that if Heathcliff and I married, we should be beggars? whereas, if I marry Linton I can aid Heathcliff to rise, and place him out of my brother’s power.

A che servirebbe essere stata creata se fossi tutta contenuta qui? Le mie grandi pene a questo mondo sono state le pene di Heathcliff, e io le ho osservate e provate tutte fin dall'inizio; il mio grande pensiero nella vita è lui. Se tutto il resto perisse, e lui rimanesse, io continuerei a esistere; e se tutto il resto rimanesse, e lui fosse annientato, l'universo mi diventerebbe totalmente estraneo. Io non sembrerei farne parte. Il mio amore per Linton è come le fronde di un bosco. Il tempo le cambierà, ne sono consapevole, come l'inverno cambia gli alberi...il mio amore per Heathcliff somiglia all'eterna roccia sottostante...fonte di scarsa gioia visibile, ma necessaria.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees—my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath—a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

He quite deserted! we separated!" she exclaimed, with an accent of indignation. "Who is to separate us, pray? They'll meet the fate of Milo! Not as long as I live, Ellen — for no mortal creature. Every Linton on the face of the earth might melt into nothing, before I could consent to forsake Heathcliff! Oh, that's not what I intend — that's not what I mean! I shouldn't be Mrs Linton were such a price demanded! He'll be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime.

You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they’ll blight you—they’ll damn you. You loved me—then what right had you to leave me? What right—answer me—for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff!

Mostraste-me agora o quão cruel tens sido. Cruel e falsa! Por que me desprezaste, Cathy? Por que traíste o teu próprio coração? Não tenho sequer uma palavra de conforto para dar. Tu mereces tudo aquilo por que estás passando. Mataste a ti própria. Sim, podes beijar-me e chorar o quanto quiseres. Arrancar-me beijos e lágrimas. Mas eles vão te queimar e serás amaldiçoada. Se me amavas, por que me deixaste? Com que direito? Responde-me! Por causa da mera inclinação que sentias pelo Linton? Pois não foi a miséria, nem a degradação, nem a morte, nem algo que Deus ou Satanás pudessem enviar, que nos separou. Foste tu, de livre vontade, que o fizeste. Não fui eu que despedacei teu coração, foste tu própria. E, ao despedaçares o teu, despedaçaste o meu também.

tu e todo o mundo têm noção de que há ou deverá haver uma existência para além de nós. Qual seria o sentido de eu ter sido criada, se estivesse contida apenas em mim mesma? Os grandes desgostos que tive foram os desgostos de Heathcliff, e eu senti cada um deles desde o início: o que me faz viver é ele. Se tudo o mais acabasse, e ele permanecesse, eu continuaria a existir; e, se tudo o mais permanecesse e ele fosse aniquilado, o universo transformar-se-ia um imenso desconhecido. O meu amor por Linton é como a folhagem das florestas. O tempo transformá-lo-á, tenho a certeza, da mesma forma que o Inverno transforma o arvoredo. O meu amor por Heathcliff lembra as rochas eternas: proporciona uma alegria pouco visível, mas é necessário. Nelly, eu sou Heathcliff!"

I’d pieced my heart back together and salvaged what little dignity I had left by jumping back in the saddle with a man safer than a Katherine Heigl chick flick. Unfortunately for me, old wounds can be a bitch the same way straying cowboys can be heartbreakers.” -Laneyism

I got Miss Catherine and myself to Thrushcross Grange: and, to my agreeable disappointment, she behaved infinitely better than I dared to expect. She seemed almost over-fond of Mr. Linton; and even to his sister, she showed plenty of affection. They were both very attentive to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. There were no mutual concessions: one stood erect, and the others yielded: and who can be ill-natured and bad-tempered when they encounter neither opposition nor indifference?

Maybe because I knew Haze and Kate so well by then the passage leapt out at me, clear and sharp as diamond. “My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath…He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.” A love that was terrifying in its depth, but all the more enticing because of that. I thought I understood. Love could be just as destructive as hate if it became poisoned or twisted.

This exact reason was why I read, to escape into stories of adventure and lust and soul-consuming passion, everything that was lacking in my real life. I lived through the books and they mended me for a time, but once they were finished, the hole in my soul returned. The emptiness in my chest that comes with crashing back to reality, reminded of duty and responsibility, rules and confinement. And in my heart of hearts, I knew no book would ever fill the ache that plagued me constantly. It felt as if everything I desired was just out of reach, just barely out of sight, taunting me but never revealing itself, and I was desperately chasing it in every book I devoured.

For a while parents seemed to forget that their responsibility as parents did not cease when the child turned on the radio; rather it increases. In the August, 1938, issue of Your Life, Mary Linton has this to say to the parent who is blaming everyone but himself for his child's actions: It isn't up to the teachers in the schools, nor the Federal Radio Commissioners, nor anyone else on earth. It's up to us — it's our job! Our job to teach them right from wrong, honesty from dishonesty, a clean and intelligent attitude toward sex, a healthful fastidiousness about their own bodies. We can teach these things because we have the daily opportunity of knowing our children and their reactions.

I grab the nearest can of miracle paint this guy is spazzing about and a church key from the paint desk.

far noh mattah wat dey say, come wat may, we are here to stay inna Inglan, inna disya time yah...

The challenge with racial privilege is that the recipient does not need to know of its existence in order to benefit from it.

O konuştukça ona karşı duygularım değişti. Onu bağışlamam gerektiğini, benimle yine kavga etse bile onu yeniden affetmem gerektiğini anladım. Barışmıştık ama ağlamadan da edemedik. Orada kaldığım süre boyunca da ağlaştık. Ağlamam üzüntüden çok Linton'ın bu karmakarışık tabiatı yüzündendi. Ne çevresinde bir kimseye huzur verecek ne de kendisi rahat yüzü görecekti!

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

This exact reason was why I read, to escape into stories of adventure and lust and soul-consuming passion—everything lacking in my real life. I lived through books, and they mended me for a time, but once they were finished, the hole in my soul returned, the emptiness in my chest that comes with crashing back to reality, reminded of duty and responsibility, rules and confinement.

Next morning—bright and cheerful out of doors—stole softened in through the blinds of the silent room, and suffused the couch and its occupant with a mellow, tender glow. Edgar Linton had his head laid on the pillow, and his eyes shut. His young and fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the form beside him, and almost as fixed: but his was the hush of exhausted anguish, and hers of perfect peace.

Busqué, y pronto descubrí, las tres lapidas en el declive próximo al páramo: La de ej medio, gris y medio enterrada en brezos. Solamente la d Edgar Linton armonizaba con el césped y el musgo que crecía al pie. La de Heathcliff estaba aún desnuda. Me demoré ante aquel cielo benigno, contemplé las alevillas revoloteando entre brezos y campánulas, escuchado el rumor de la suave brisa entre el césped, y me preguntaba como nadie puede atribuir sueños inquietos a los que dormían bajo una tierra tan sosegada.

My great miseries in this world have been his and I watched and felt each from the beginning. My great thought in living is himself. If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be and if all else remained and he were annihilated, the universe would turn into a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods, time will change it. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath. I am Heathcliff. He is always, always in my mind as my own being.

Lindsey turned to Maude and said sweetly, “I guess I’ll be seeing you in Ms. Tragent’s class this evening since Jazmine’s Dad managed to get you in. She usually takes nothing but the best, but seeing as you’re James Baldwin’s charity case, she couldn’t say no to the poor, little French orphan he’s taken in, could she?” Maude’s face grew hot with anger. “You know what? Nobody’s even heard of the name Lindsey Linton in France. So I guess Mrs. Tragent must really like charity cases if she’s taken your sorry, shallow self in her class,” she retorted.

Progress had not invaded, science had not enlightened, the little hamlet of Pieuvrot, in Brittany. They were a simple, ignorant, superstitious set who lived there, and the luxuries of civilization were known to them as little as its learning. They toiled hard all the week on the ungrateful soil that yielded them but a bare subsistence in return; they went regularly to mass in the little rock-set chapel on Sundays and saint’s days; believed implicitly all that monsieur le cure said to them, and many things which he did not say; and they took all the unknown, not as magnificent but as diabolical

After downloading some crypto software, hex editors and a few system tools, the time comes to locate the D3dm4n$ Ch3$t. Tracking down the site takes a while. The portal regularly relocates, piggybacking off legitimate websites until discovered and then relocating. Once there, you take a dive into the Deep.

Mr. Haverstrom closes the door, leaving Patrick and me alone in the hallway. Pat smiles slickly, leaning in toward me. I step back until I press against the wall. It’s uncomfortable—but not threatening. Mostly because in addition to racquetball I’ve practiced aikido for years. So if Patrick tries anything funny, he’s in for a very painful surprise. “Let’s be honest, Sarah: you know and I know the last thing you want to do is give a presentation in front of hundreds of people—your colleagues.” My heart tries to crawl into my throat. “So, how about this? You do the research portion, slides and such that I don’t really have time for, and I’ll take care of the presentation, giving you half the credit of course.” Of course. I’ve heard this song before—in school “group projects” where I, the quiet girl, did all the work, but the smoothest, loudest talker took all the glory. “I’ll get Haverstrom to agree on Saturday—I’m like a son to him,” Pat explains before leaning close enough that I can smell the garlic on his breath. “Let Big Pat take care of it. What do you say?” I say there’s a special place in hell for people who refer to themselves in the third person. But before I can respond, Willard’s firm, sure voice travels down the hall. “I think you should back off, Nolan. Sarah’s not just ‘up for it,’ she’ll be fantastic at it.” Pat waves his hand. “Quiet, midge—the adults are talking.” And the adrenaline comes rushing back, but this time it’s not anxiety-induced—it’s anger. Indignation. I push off the wall. “Don’t call him that.” “He doesn’t mind.” “I mind.” He stares at me with something akin to surprise. Then scoffs and turns to Willard. “You always let a woman fight your battles?” I take another step forward, forcing him to move back. “You think I can’t fight a battle because I’m a woman?” “No, I think you can’t fight a battle because you’re a woman who can barely string three words together if more than two people are in the room.” I’m not hurt by the observation. For the most part, it’s true. But not this time. I smile slowly, devilishly. Suddenly, I’m Cathy Linton come to life—headstrong and proud. “There are more than two people standing here right now. And I’ve got more than three words for you: fuck off, you arrogant, self-righteous swamp donkey.” His expression is almost funny. Like he can’t decide if he’s more shocked that I know the word fuck or that I said it out loud to him—and not in the good way. Then his face hardens and he points at me. “That’s what I get for trying to help your mute arse? Have fun making a fool of yourself.” I don’t blink until he’s down the stairs and gone. Willard slow-claps as he walks down the hall to me. “Swamp donkey?” I shrug. “It just came to me.” “Impressive.” Then he bows and kisses the back of my hand. “You were magnificent.” “Not half bad, right? It felt good.” “And you didn’t blush once.” I push my dark hair out of my face, laughing self-consciously. “Seems like I forget all about being nervous when I’m defending someone else.” Willard nods. “Good. And though I hate to be the twat who points it out, there’s something else you should probably start thinking about straight away.” “What’s that?” “The presentation in front of hundreds of people.” And just like that, the tight, sickly feeling washes back over me. So this is what doomed feels like. I lean against the wall. “Oh, broccoli balls.

J’ai remarqué souvent que quand deux amis pétersbourgeois se rencontrent quelque part, après s’être salués, ils demandent en même temps : Quoi de neuf ? il y a une tristesse particulière dans leurs voix, quelle qu’ait été l’intonation initiale de leur conversation. En effet, une désespérance totale est liée à cette question à Pétersbourg. Mais le plus agaçant c’est que, très souvent, l’homme qui la pose est tout à fait indifférent, un Pétersbourgeois de naissance, qui connaît très bien la coutume, sait d’avance qu’on ne lui répondra rien, qu’il n’y a rien de nouveau, qu’il a posé cette question peut-être mille fois sans aucun succès ; cependant, il la pose, et il a l’air de s’y intéresser, comme si les convenances l’obligeaient de participer lui aussi à la vie publique, d’avoir des intérêts publics. Mais les intérêts publics... C’est-à-dire nous ne nions pas que nous ayons des intérêts publics ; nous tous aimons ardemment la patrie, nous aimons notre cher Pétersbourg, nous aimons jouer si l’occasion se présente. En un mot il y a beaucoup d’intérêts publics. Mais ce qu’il y a surtout chez nous, ce sont les groupes. On sait que Pétersbourg n’est que la réunion d’un nombre considérable de petits groupes dont chacun a ses statuts, ses conventions, ses lois, sa logique et son oracle. C’est en quelque sorte le produit de notre caractère national qui a encore peur de la vie publique et tient plutôt au foyer. En outre, la vie publique exige un certain art ; il faut s’y préparer ; il faut beaucoup de conditions. Aussi, l’on préfère la maison. Là, tout est plus simple ; il ne faut aucun art ; on est plus tranquille. Dans le groupe, on vous répondra bravement à la question : Quoi de neuf ? La question reçoit tout de suite un sens particulier, et l’on vous répond ou par un potin, ou par un bâillement, ou par quelque chose qui vous force vous-même à bâiller cyniquement, magistralement. Dans le groupe, on peut traîner de la façon la meilleure et la plus douce une vie utile entre le bâillement et le ragot, jusqu’au moment où la grippe, ou bien la fièvre chaude, visite votre demeure ; et vous quittez alors la vie stoïquement, avec indifférence, sans savoir comment et pourquoi tout cela était avec vous jusqu’alors. Aujourd’hui, dans l’obscurité, au crépuscule, après une triste journée, plein d’étonnement que tout se soit arrangé ainsi, il semble qu’on ait vécu, qu’on ait atteint quelque chose, et tout à coup, on ne sait pas pourquoi, il faut quitter ce monde agréable et sans soucis pour émigrer dans un monde meilleur. Dans certains groupes, d’ailleurs, on parle fortement de la cause. Quelques personnes instruites et bien intentionnées se réunissent. On bannit sévèrement tous les plaisirs innocents, comme les potins et la préférence, et, avec un entrain incompréhensible, on parle de différents sujets très importants. Enfin, après avoir bavardé, parlé, résolu quelques questions d’utilité générale, et après avoir réussi à imposer aux uns et aux autres une opinion sur toutes choses, le groupe est saisi d’une irritation quelconque et commence à s’affaiblir considérablement. Finalement, tous se fâchent les uns contre les autres. On se dit quelques dures vérités. Quelques caractères tranchants se font jour et tout se termine par la dislocation totale. Ensuite on se calme ; on fait provision de bon sens et, peu à peu, l’on se réunit de nouveau dans le groupe décrit ci-dessus. Sans doute il est agréable de vivre ainsi. Mais à la longue cela devient irritant ; cela irrite fortement.