"If you're happy in a dream, Ammu, does that count?" Estha asked.
"Does what count?"
"The happiness - does it count?"

Great evil must the soul [of the snake] have done that is cast into this shape.

You said I killed you - haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their muderers, I believe - I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

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, an he were annihilated, the Universe would turn to a mighty stranger.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

"Why canst thou not always be a good lass, Cathy?"
And she turned her face up to his, and laughed, and answered -
"Why cannot you always be a good man, father?"

Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain, that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.

[Edmund] could allow his sister to be the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from often saying to himself, in Mr. Rushworth's company, "If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow."

There is no reason in the world why you should not be important where you are known.

(...) what I really wanted to do was cry. Not only because Finn had never told me abut this guy, but because there was no way to ask him about it. And until then I don't think I really understood the meaning of gone.

The truth welled up inside him. The fact that he loved her. And the fact that it wouldn't save him.
"We don't make it out of here, do we?" he said.
Diana shook her head. "No, my love."

"I can't talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this: There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. (...) I want more numbers than I am likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I am grateful."

I couldn't be mad at him for even a moment, and only now that I loved a grenade did I understand the foolishness of trying to save others from my own impending fragmentation: I couldn't unlove Augustus Waters. And I didn't want to.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.

The faults of women, of children, of the feeble, the indigent, and the ignorant, are the fault of the husbands, the fathers, the masters, the strong, the rich, and the wise.

I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.

"But I had to go home, remember? You were supposed to say goodbye."
"Don't know why you... say goodbye. I say... hello."

Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.

I'm sorry I can't properly introduce myself, but I don't have a name any more. Hardly any of us do. We lose them like car keys, forget them like anniversaries.