Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire
What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!
...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...
Yes, as my swift days near their goal, 'tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, with courage to endure.
He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction, a look of hatred unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.
I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!
That is how I'm loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he's in my soul.
No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere; I see Heaven's glories shine, And, Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear
He is more myself than I am. Whatever our two souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Oh! dreadful is the check - intense the agony - / When the ear begins to hear, and the eye begins to see; / When the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again; / The soul to feel the flesh, and the flesh to feel the chain.
No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere...
No coward soul is mine.