“The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!”

“I know what he suffers now, for instance, exactly: it is merely a beginning of what he shall suffer, though.”

“The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they no longer have the impression of looking at the objects around her: they appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond — you would have said out of this world.”

“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 monopolized by him! 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?”

“I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity.”