Wuthering Heights Quotes

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Wuthering Heights Wuthering Heights by Jim Pipe
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Wuthering Heights Quotes Showing 1-8 of 8
“My affectations!’ he murmured; ‘what are they? For heaven’s sake, Catherine, don’t look so angry! Despise me as much as you please; I am a worthless, cowardly wretch: I can’t be scorned enough; but I’m too mean for your anger. Hate my father, and spare me for contempt.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“Why didn’t you send to absolve me from my promise, when you wished I wouldn’t keep it?”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“A golden afternoon of August: every breath from the hills so full of life, that it seemed whoever respired it, though dying, might revive. Catherine’s face was just like the landscape—shadows and sunshine flitting over it in rapid succession; but the shadows rested longer, and the sunshine was more transient; and her poor little heart reproached itself for even that passing forgetfulness of its cares.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“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.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“Do you reflect that all those words will be branded in my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you have left me? You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine, you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“Ah, your favourites are among these!" I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats.
"A strange choice of favourites," she observed scornfully.
Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
tags: humor
“Você pode lutar, por amor, com esse diabo o tempo que quiser; quando a hora chegar, nem todos os santos do céu terão poder para salvá-lo!”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“Seja qual for a matéria de que as nossas almas são feitas, a minha e a dele são iguais.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
tags: amor