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Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high, Or stooping low are lending A shelter from the sky. And there in those wild bowers A lovely form is laid; Green grass and dew-steeped flowers Wave gently round her head.
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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?
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He had been content with daily labour and rough animal enjoyments, 'till Catherine crossed his path. Shame at her scorn, and hope of her approval, were his first prompts to higher pursuits; and, instead of guarding him from one and winning him to the other, his endeavors to raise himself had produced just the contrary result.
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The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We'll talk its pensive hours away.
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I'll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide: Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.
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Wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
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I will walk where my own nature would be leading.
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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.
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He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!
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They forgot everything the minute they were together again.
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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.
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I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!
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I take so little interest in my daily life, that I hardly remember to eat and drink.
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I cannot love thee; thou 'rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God's pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!
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I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.
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The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.
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I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives!
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I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.
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It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world.
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I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
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Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
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No coward soul is mine.
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Earnsha was not to be civilized with a wish, and my young lady was no philosopher, and no paragon of patience; but both their minds tending to the same point - one loving and desiring to esteem, and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed - they contrived in the end to reach it.
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I can say with sincerity that I like cats... A cat is an animal which has more human feelings than almost any other.