Mi cariño a Heathcliff es como son las rocas del fondo de la tierra, que permanecen eternamente iguales sin cambiar jamás. Es un afecto del que no pu… - Emily Brontë

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.

He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!

It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,' he answered. 'Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer — but yours! How can I?