Mary Shelley

in the midst of despair we performed the tasks of hope.

We never do what we wish when we wish it, and when we desire a thing earnestly, and it does arrive, that or we are changed, so that we slide from the summit of our wishes and find ourselves where we were.

I was new to sorrow, but it did not the less alarm me.

I knew the labyrinthine intrigue of his marriage was of a nature to present us with difficulties, but I was assured of the naturalness of our joining. I was sixteen and the world was suddenly entirely simple to me; we would be together. In spite of all the voices we knew would come against us, we resolved on a plan to be free.

Sorrow only increased with knowledge.

Man," I cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!

When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?

What may not be expected in a country of eternal light?

So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein—more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.

To examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death.

The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature.

I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance.

Do you mark my words; I have learned the language of despair: I have it all by heart, for I am Despair; and a strange being am I, joyous, triumphant Despair….

My greatest pleasure was the enjoyment of a serene sky amidst these verdant woods: yet I loved all the changes of Nature; and rain, and storm, and the beautiful clouds of heaven brought their delights with them. When rocked by the waves of the lake my spirits rose in triumph as a horseman feels with pride the motions of his high fed steed.

What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to solve them.

The sentiment of immediate loss in some sort decayed, while that of utter, irremediable loneliness grew on me with time.