"'If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear.'"

"Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?"

"It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another."

"There is love in me the likes of which you've never seen. There is rage in me the likes of which should never escape. If I am not satisfied in the one, I will indulge the other."

YESSSS

CREATURE: Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition; for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me.

CREATURE: That is also my victim! In his murder my crimes are consummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! Oh Frankenstein! generous and self-devoted being! what does it avail that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by destroying all thou lovedst

WALTON: Over him hung a form which I cannot find words to describe; gigantic in stature, yet uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As he hung over the coffin, his face was concealed by long locks of ragged hair; but one vast hand was extended, in colour and apparent texture like that of a mummy.

CREATURE: "There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me; but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.

CREATURE: It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.

VICTOR: Villain! before you sign my death warrant, be sure that you are yourself are safe.

It was dark when I awoke; I felt cold also, and half-frightened as it were instinctively, finding myself so desolate.

Are you to be happy while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness?

I may die, but first you, my tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes on your misery. Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful. I will watch with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall repent of the injuries you inflict.

"No father had watched my infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I distinguished nothing."

She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her head hanging down, and her pale and distorted features half covered by her hair. Every where I turn I see the same figure – her bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its bridal bier.

“I went to it in cold blood, and my heart often sickened at the work of my hands”

“‘I no longer see the world and its works as they before appeared to me . . . misery has come home, and men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood.’”

My revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to be a vice, I confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my soul. My rage is unspeakable, when I reflect that the murderer, whom I have turned loose upon society, still exists.

I trembled, and my heart failed within me; when, on looking up, I saw, by the light of the moon, the daemon at the casement.

Have a care: I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you curse the hour of your birth.

But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from any other being that wore the human form.

(Mary Shelley is quoting from canto 2, line 55 of Leigh Hunt’s Story of Remini here)

Clerval! beloved friend! even now it delights me to record your words, and to dwell on the praise of which you are so eminently deserving. He was a being formed in the “very poetry of nature”. His wild and enthusiastic imagination was chastened by the sensibility of his heart.

After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter.

Remember, that I am thy creature: I ought to be thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed.

but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart.

which they were set, his shrivelled complexion, and straight black lips.

His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in-

How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how to delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful!—Great God!

The world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover; to her it was a vacancy, which she sought to people with imaginations of her own.