How strong you are! How many years do you mean to live after I am gone ?' Heathcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down.
'I wish I could hold you,' she continued, bitterly, 'till we were both dead! I shouldn't care what you suffered.

I care nothing for your sufferings.

Why shouldn't you suffer?
I do! Will you forget me?
Will you be happy when I am in the earth?
Will you say twenty years hence, "That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw?
I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past.

I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!" Will you say so, Heathcliff ?' 'Don't torture me till I'm as mad as yourself,' cried he, wrenching his head free, and grinding his teeth.
The two, to a cool spectator, made a strange and fearful picture.

Well might Catherine deem that heaven would be a land of exile to her, unless with her mortal body she cast away her moral character also.