Life and Works of Charlotte Brontė and Her Sisters: Wuthering heights, by E. Brontė; and A. Grey, by A. Brontė

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Scribner, Welford, & Armstrong, 1873

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Page 389 - God's mercy, and with a quiet conscience ; therefore if there be any of you, who by this means cannot quiet his own conscience herein, but requireth further comfort or counsel ; let him come to me, or to some other discreet and learned Minister of God's Word, and open his grief...
Page 73 - If all else perished, and he remained, / should still continue to be. And if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger — I should not seem a part of it.
Page 146 - What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your 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?
Page 73 - 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 a pleasure to myself — but as my own being...
Page 3 - ... a gentleman as many a country squire : rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure ; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of under-bred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort : I know, by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling — to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate equally under cover, and...
Page 303 - I started ; and then he seemed to smile. I could not think him dead : but his face and throat were washed with rain ; the bedclothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice, flapping to and fro, had grazed one hand that rested on the sill ; no blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it, I could doubt no more : he was dead and stark...
Page 32 - ... there: because he was determined he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was that my mistress grumbled herself calm ; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.
Page 145 - the thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all. I'm tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.
Page 103 - Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!' exclaimed Mrs. Linton. 'We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up! you sha'n't be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it's a sucking leveret.
Page 46 - The mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced her plan of reform by trying to raise her self-respect with fine clothes and flattery, which she took readily; so that, instead of a wild, hatless little savage...

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