"The event of my imagination, now in the wildest play, suggested the following train of ideas."

"I was never so mad as to believe that I could create a being."

"What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many that people infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism of our being is subject to merest accident."

"Blasted as I was, I could not bear to look on the face of man."

"What is the world, except that which we feel? Love, and hope, and delight, or sorrow and tears; these are our lives, our realities, to which we give the names of power, possession, misfortune, and dea…"