How do we see love? Is love something that is to transcend everything, even death? Does love makes one suffer depths of despair that the only release is death? Does love make us forget everything else and focus only on the object of affection? Does love force us to do everything possible, and beyond so as to exact every drop of its essence? Should there be barriers, are we all consumed to remove them and inflict grave injury and hurt on those who put them there? Possibly, but then again, we would really be off our rockers to do a Heathcliff However, Emily Bronte paints this picture of possessive and thwarted passion to great effect against the backdrop of the English moors. Her Heathcliff and Catherine breaks all imagination and logic in their attempts to be together and fulfil their lust for each other and revenge on their antagonists. Their love for each other transcends everything... even death. We do not see love in that sense today... to die for love. This story is about love, probably not the way it exists, but more about the way it should be fierce, almost insane, unconditional, merciless and disregarding one's true wishes and needs.
             "I am Heathcliff He's always, always in my mind, not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being," tells us of Catherine's obsession for Heathcliff. Her intense love and devotion challenges everything that is holy for one that is betrothed to another, especially so in the Victorian era.
             "My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries in this world, and I watched and felt each other from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself. 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," (pg. 82, Volume 1, Chapter ix), prior to her marriage to Edgar Li...