Novel & Cerita Wuthering Heights Project Gutenberg

I touched the books devotedly and looked at Alessandro in complete shock. “Do you know how hard it is to find all these books?” I questioned when I saw the first edition of Wuthering Heights and pointed to it. “That book sold in 2007 for $225000... That's too much.” “It cost me almost $300000,” Alessandro said matter-of-factly. “It was a bit of a hassle to move everything, but it's worth it. All the books are yours to do with what you want. They are your property; the invoices were issued in your name, and I paid the respective taxes they carry.”

“But if I fail this class, I’m blaming you.” “Deal,” he said, grabbing a pen from my desk. “Now, let’s make an outline.” Two hours later, my desk was covered in scribbles, arrows, and bullet points. Hayden sat cross-legged on my bed, flipping through Wuthering Heights like he was actually enjoying himself. “Okay,” he said, reading aloud, “‘I cannot live without my soul.’ That’s obsession in a nutshell.” I jotted it down, smiling despite myself. “Look at you, quoting Brontë like a pro.”

I walked angrily down the hallway on the way to my own bedroom and laid down. Groaning, I grabbed one of my English Lit books, 'Wuthering Heights,' and tried to get some reading done. That was a mistake… Cathy and Heathcliff were at least 20 years apart in age, at least that was what the analytical footnotes in my academic copy told me. Well, I'd succeeded in distracting myself from Bethany, but now Ellis crept back into my mind.

DIONE was on one side, sitting on a hammock she had hung from two trees. She was holding a folder with only papers inside. In front, it says, ‘W&V scrap studies’ and below are the initials, ‘C.H’. She couldn’t help but smile that she already had in her hand what she had long wanted to read. The scrap studies of Dr. Conrad regarding two of the supernatural creatures that Dione has always been fascinated. Peter handed it to her when she went to the cabin to get a towel.

I'd done what any sensible person would've; I went on live TV and apologized, what more do they want? I stood up and ambled to my bookshelf, I picked a random book and trudged outside. The day was nice and pleasant, the kind that made you want to be outside and at the same time too lazy to go. I parked my butt on the chair at the backyard and looked down at the book in my hands. "Aww men!" I groaned. The book on my hands was none other than Wuthering Heights. I groaned again. Oh well! Might as well see what happens to Heathcliff.

The walls being light colored didn’t surprise me more than the mountains upon mountains of books he has sitting on bookshelves surrounding the room. I walk around the room running my hands over all the different titles and authors. Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, H.G Wells, and so much more. Wuthering Heights, a first edition version sat in a case in between the shelves by a set of double doors to what looks like a balcony. It stuck out to me more than any of the other titles because it surprises me more than anything that he would read a book such as that. I try to picture in my head him sitting in a chair with glasses, all relaxed and snuggled up reading a classical romance novel

I am aware that he is like looking at my face for a long time and is keep on glancing at me. “Ahmmnn a book entitled Wuthering Heights by Emily Bonte, Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens, and hemmnn Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.” I said as I look into the books there. “I see, those are rare books now since they are old and people nowadays don’t like sad and pure narration stories.” Henry said and I just nod. Henry is now helping me through the pile of books. It was almost 30 minutes yet we haven’t found one of the 3 books.

Safe. Anthony wandered toward the fiction section while Lila ran her fingers along a row of spines. She paused at a worn copy of Wuthering Heights, flipping it open to a passage she’d underlined in her own copy at home. Something about passion and destruction and longing that refused to fade. “You’d make a good Catherine,” Anthony said behind her, his voice thoughtful. “But less tragic. I’d never leave you on a moor.” She turned, laughing. “That’s a weirdly romantic thing to say.”

she said, her tone still cold. I nodded, but a small sigh slipped out as I followed her downstairs. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. It felt like I was just going through the motions, each step mechanical. When we reached the living room, Hailey handed me a book from the pocket of her apron. It was Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. She placed it in my hands without a word, but I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that bubbled up inside me.

Don't just skip this book again; add to library. Enjoy! Your loving author; Natasha Gwen