"...for what is not connected to her for me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree- filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women-my own features-mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!"- Heathcliff
*.* the hopeless romantic in me is running around in circles!
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