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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…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.”A love that was terrifying in its depth, but all the more enticing because of that. I thought I understood. Love could be just as destructive as hate if it became poisoned or twisted.

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