Saturday, September 29, 2007

I am Heathcliffe...

I watched Wuthering Heights last night and the scene where the torn Cathy Earnshaw must confront her love for the gypsy, Heathcliff, while he (unbeknownst to her) is overhearing still breaks my heart... when she says "I AM Heathcliff..."

It melts my heart. And makes me want someone to love me like that and to be there everyday to tell me that.

It would be nice, huh?

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.

I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of creation if I were entirely contained here?

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I 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.

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, 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 — so, don't talk of our separation again — it is impracticable.... Catherine Earnshaw in Wuthering Heights.

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