“But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall soon cease to be - a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself.”
More from Mary Shelley
“Happiness is in its highest degree the sister of goodness. Suffering and amiability may…”
“But my father; my beloved and most wretched father? Would he die? Would he never overcome…”
“She was a singular being, and, like me, inherited much of the peculiar disposition of our…”
“I found if sorrow was dead within me, so was love and desire of sympathy. Yet sorrow only…”