Your Presence Is A Moral Poison That

He Shall Never Know How I Love Him: And That, Not Because He's Handsome, Nelly, But Because He Is More Myself Than I Am. Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same.

Yet I Was A Fool To Fancy For A Moment That She Valued Edgar Linton's Attachment More Than Mine -- If He Love 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 -- Tush! 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 Am Now Quite Cured Of Seeking Pleasure In Society, Be It Country Or Town. A Sensible Man Ought To Find Sufficient Company In Himself.

Good Words," I Replied. "but Deeds Must Prove It Also; And After He Is Well, Remember You Don't Forget Resolutions Formed In The Hour Of Fear.

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?