...one is gold put to the use of paving-stones, and the other is tin polished to ape a service of silver.
heathcliff, ch21, wuthering heigts, emily bronte
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One hoped and the other despaired: they chose their own lots, and were righteously doomed to endure them.
nelly dean, ch17, wuthering heigts, emily bronte
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I'm weary of enduring now, and I'd be glad of a retaliation that wouldn't recoil on myself; but treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends: they wound those who resort to them, worse than their enemies.
nelly dean, ch17, wuthering heigts, emily bronte
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I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
isabella heathcliff nee linton, ch17, wuthering heigts, emily bronte
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Monster! would that he could be blotted out of creation, and out of my memory!
isabella heathcliff nee linton, ch17, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Her life closed in a gentle dream - may she wake as kindly in the other world!
nelly dean, ch16, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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She's fainted, or dead. So much the better.
nelly dean. ch15, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Don't torture me till I'm as mad as yourself.
hwathcliff, ch15, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings.
catherine linton nee earnshaw, ch15, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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He might as well plant an oak in a flower-pot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!
heathcliff, ch14, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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If she desired to go, she might: the nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her!
heathcliff, ch14, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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[...] it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him - you fight against that devil for love as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him.
mr. earnshaw, ch13, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
nelly dean, ch13, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy! I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I'd kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction.
heathcliff, ch11, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Your type is not a lamb; it's a sucking leveret.
catherine linton nee earnshaw, ch 11, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous [...]
edgar linton, ch11, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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Your bliss lies [...] in inflicting misery.
catherine linton nee earnshaw, ch11, wuthering heights, emily bronte
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