“My dear Poirot, it's not for me to dictate to you. You have a right to your own opinion, just as I have mine.”

“You have your opinion, I have mine, and it takes all kinds of nuts and dips to make a party, right?”

“Poirot was standing in the larder in a dramtic attitude. In his hand he was brandishing a leg of mutton.'My dear Poirot! What is the matter? have you gone mad?''Regard i pray you this mutton! But regard it closely!”

“You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine."~Heathcliff”

“Why did you betray your own heart Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. ... You loved me - then what right had you to leave me? Because ... nothing God or satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - oh God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave? [...] I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer - but yours! How can I?”

“The dawn will be upon us in a couple of hours. We need to leave this place.""I won't go with you," she insisted stubbornly."If your pride dictates that you must fight me, you may try to do so." His voice, with its Old World cadence and formality, was almost tender.Her eyes deepened to purple. "Stop giving me your permission! I am Mikhail and Raven's daughter, a Carpathian like yourself and not without my own powers. I have the right to my own choices!""If it pleases you to think so.”