entrance haven library atrium cellar catacombs aperitif

Quotations from Wuthering Heights

By Emily Bronte

Nelly about Catherine:

W.H., pg. 29: ....and she put all of us past our patience fifty times and oftener in a day: from the hour she came downstairs till the hour she went to bed, we had not a minute's security that she wouldn't be in mischief. Her spirits were always at high- water mark, her tongue always going - singing, laughing, and plaguing everybody who would not do the same. A wild, wicked slip she was - but she had the bonniest eye, and the sweetest smile, and the lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no harm;

The Author about Catherine and Heathcliff:

W.H., pg.32: They both promised to grow up as rude savages; the young master being entirely negligent how they behaved, and what they did, so they kept clear of him.[...] But it was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain there all day, and the after punishment grew a mere thing to laugh at.

Catherine about Heathcliff:

W.H., pg. 57ff: It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: an 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. [...] 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 pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable;

The author about Heathcliff:

W.H., pg.69: He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom, my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than Mr. Linton's; it looked intelligent and retained no marks of former degradation. A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though to stern for grace.

Catherine about Heathcliff:

W.H., pg.74: ... what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed creature, without refinement, without cultivation: an arid wilderness of furze and whinstone. [...]He's not a rough diamond - a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he's a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. [...] There's my picture: and I am his friend.

Catherine about herself:

W.H., pg.85: Well, if I cannot keep Heathcliff for my friend - if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I'll try to break their hearts by breaking my own. [...] he has been discreet in dreading to provoke me; you must [...] remind him of my passionate temper, verging, when kindled, on frenzy.

Edgar to Nelly:

W.H., pg.93: ...Hereafter, we must be cautious how we vex her. I desire no further advice from you," answered Mr. Linton. "You knew your Mistress's nature, and you encouraged me to harrass her. And not give me one hint of how she has been there three days! It was heartless! Months of sickness could not cause such a change!.....The next time you bring a tale to me, you shall quit my service, Ellen Dean."

Heathcliff about Catherine:

W.H., pg.117: "Why did you betray your own heart Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. ... You loved me - then what right had you to leave me? Because ... nothing God or satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of you 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? [...] I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer - but yours! How can I?"

Heathcliff about Catherine:

W.H., pg.123: Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you - haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. ... Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! ... I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!

Heathcliff about Catherine:

W.H.,pg.235: [...] for what is not connected with her to me? And what does not recall her? I cannot look down this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object, by day I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men, and women - my own features mock me witha resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

Heathcliff about Hareton:

W.H., pg.159: If he were born a fool I should not enjoy it half so much. But he's no fool; and I can sympathise with all his feelings, having felt them myself. I know what he suffers now, for instance, exactly: it is merely a beginning of what he shall suffer, though. And he'll never be able to emerge from his bathos of coarseness and ignorance.

Catherine about Linton:

W.H., pg.185: About three times, I think, we have been merry and hopeful, as we were the first evening; the rest of my visits wre dreary and troubled; now with his selfishness and spite, and now with his sufferings: but I've learnt to endure the former with nearly as little resentment as the latter.

Heathcliff about himself:

W.H., pg.238+242: Last night I was on the treshold of hell. Today I'm within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it hardly three feet to sever me. [...] I repent of nothing - I'm too happy, and yet I'm not happy enough. My soul's bliss kills my body, but does not satisfy itself. [...] I tell you, I have nearly attained my heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued nand uncoveted by me!

Heathcliff about himself:

W.H., pg. 234: "It is a poor conclusion, is it not?' he observed [...] "An absurd termination to my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready, and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old eenemies have not beaten me; now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is the use? I don't care for striking: I can't take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time, only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case - I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I'm to idle to destroy for nothing.

Author: S|S