If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods; time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees–My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath:–a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
—Emily Brontë
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just shy of pretty 
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