#heights

I had to read Wuthering Heights for English and I never enjoyed a book in all my life as much as that one. ↗

— Marlon Brando

#wuthering-heights #life

How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me. ↗

— Emily Brontë

#love

This was fuck-you-and-your-mother-and-everyone-else money ↗

— Chris Cole

#money

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. ↗

— Emily Brontë

#wuthering-heights #melancholy

I don't have any real spirituality in my life - I'm kind of an atheist - but when music can take me to the highest heights, it's almost like a spiritual feeling. It fills that void for me. ↗

— Jack Black

#any #atheist #feeling #fills #heights

The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. ↗

— Albert Camus

#fill #happy #heart #heights #imagine

The vast upheaval of the World War set in motion forces that will either destroy civilization or raise mankind to undreamed of heights of human welfare and prosperity. ↗

— Arthur Henderson

#destroy #either #forces #heights #human

I'm afraid of heights. Not unreasonably, but rationally afraid of heights. I think everyone is. ↗

— Joe Rogan

#everyone #heights #i #i think #rationally

Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes. ↗

— Emily Brontë

#heathcliff #wuthering-heights #change

If you ask me, houses shouldn't have been built down here. These little block-long streets cease abruptly at the open space that remains on the side of the hill, and the hill is angry that development has crept so close. It whips these pathetic homes with a battering, constant wind. It sends soggy clouds to sit damply atop the roofs, trickling stagnant moisture, birthing deep green molds. It sends its monsters, the horrifying Jerusalem crickets, up from the soil to invade basement apartments, looking like greasy, translucent alien insects. They drive me crying into the bathroom to strategize their eviction from my home. ↗

— Michelle Tea

#san-francisco #home