Book: Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus. Page 1

O beloved homeland! Who, besides your children, will understand with what joy I saw again your streams and mountains, and especially your wonderful lake!

If I don't have attachment, I surrender to hatred and Vice. Love of another being would have eliminated the cause of my crimes, and no one anything about me would not have heard. My atrocities generated by the enforced solitude, I hate; my virtue will flourish when I deal with my peers being. I feel affection of a thinking of creation; I'm a link in the chain of all things which I now is not the place.

About the stars, the clouds and wind! Are you kidding me. If you truly pity me, deprive me of the senses and memory, turn it into nothing; if you can't, disappear and leave me in darkness.

It was a man, as if created "the poetry of nature." It's rapid, enthusiastic imagination was constrained by the sensitivity of the heart. He was able ardently to love; in friendship he showed that kind of devotion which, according to conventional wisdom, exists only in our imagination. But human affections, could not entirely fill his ardent soul. Nature, which the others only admired, he loved passionately.

... The roar of the waterfall
Was music to him. A steep cliff,
Capped mountains, dense and dark forest,
Their contours and paint were caused
It is true, passionate love.
He needed no persuasion,
In order to love them. What was pleasing to the eye
It touched the soul...

I was created for peace and happiness. As a youth, I did not know discontent. And if ever I struggled with melancholy, the contemplation of the beauties of nature or the study of the beautiful and sublime creations of man have always resonated in my heart and lifted my spirit. Now I was like a tree struck by lightning; it pierced my soul through and through, and I felt that I should stay like a man and show him the pathetic collapse that triggers compassion in others and intolerable to myself.

For a moment I dared to cast off one's chains and look around freely and proudly. But iron chains already eroded my soul and I am again, trembling and becoming frustrated immersed in their experiences.

However, he found that in the life of a traveler together with pleasures, there is a lot of adversity. He is constantly in the tension, and barely starting to relax, forced to leave the pleasant places in search of something new, which again holds his attention, and then in turn to abandon it for other products.

On the way Clerval still tried to comfort me. He felt sorry for me with all my heart. "Poor William - he said, - poor, dear child! He's sleeping now beside the angelic soul of his mother. Anyone who knew this baby in all its infant charms, mourn his untimely death. To die so badly, feeling his neck on the killer's hands! What the villain need to be to kill the innocent! Poor child! Only one can be comforted: his relatives lament and weep, but he has suffered. Terrible moment behind, and he was laid to rest forever. His tender body is covered the grave with turf, and he feels no pain. He did not need pity; I will save it for the unfortunate who survived."

Come, Victor, not with thoughts of revenge, but with love in the soul, who has healed our wound, and exalted his woes it was not. Enter the house of mourning, my friend, but not with hatred of the enemy, and with love to the loving you.

When I was in a good mood, nature was for me a source of exquisite sensations. Clear sky and verdant fields filled me with delight.

Mr. Frankenstein, we are too modest - excellent quality in a young man. The youth are supposed to be modest, Mr. Clerval; in my youth I myself was, Yes, but this modesty is short enough.

To the horror mingled with the bitterness of disappointment; something I've wanted for so long, now turned into anguish and as a sudden and irreparable was this change!

There is nothing in life peremenchiva our senses.