Hereafter She Is Only My Sister In

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?

How Strange! I Thought, Though Everybody Hated And Despised Each Other, They Could Not Avoid Loving Me.

My Love For Heathcliff Resembles The Eternal Rocks Beneath: A Source Of Little Visible Delight, But Necessary.

And, Even Yet, I Dare Not Let It Languish, Dare Not Indulge In Memory's Rapturous Pain; Once Drinking Deep Of That Divinest Anguish, How Could I Seek The Empty World Again?

I Pray Every Night That I May Live After Him; Because I Would Rather Be Miserable Than That He Should Be — That Proves I Love Him Better Than Myself.