“You teach me now how cruel you’ve been⁠—cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they’ll blight you⁠—they’ll damn you. 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. 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?”