“It’s a miserable story!” said Bruno. “It begins miserably, and it ends miserablier. I think I shall cry. Sylvie, please lend me your handkerchief.”“I haven’t got it with me,” Sylvie whispered.“Then I won’t cry,” said Bruno manfully.”

“It’s always you and me.” I nodded again and felt my lips quivering. He kept whispering, “Always me and my Sylvie, yeah?” “Yeah,” I whispered.”

“Then and now, beautiful, I’ll take you any way you come to me … Any way. I love this Sylvie, I loved that Sylvie. I just love you, baby.”

“I know he has a bad nature,' said Catherine; 'he's your son. But I'm glad I've a better, to forgive it; and I know he loves me and for that reason I love him. Mr Heathcliff, you have nobody to love you; and, however miserable you make us, we shall still have the revenge of thinking that your cruelty arises from your greater misery! You are miserable, are you not? Lonely, like the devil, and envious like him? Nobody loves you - nobody will cry for you, when you die! I wouldn't be you!”

“You know what Bruno, I got some advice for you. I think you should, uh, be my motherfuckin' guest.”

“Hey!' Bruno called out 'Give me the rest of that banana I was eating.”