He went down: I set him a stool by the fire, and offered him a quantity of good things: but he was sick and could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were thrown away.

He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation.

On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely--'I'm trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back.

I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last.
I hope he will not die before I do!' 'For shame, Heathcliff!' said I.

'It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.' 'No, God won't have the satisfaction that I shall,' he returned.