“It was now the end of May; the woods were clothed in their freshest verdure, and the sweet smell of the new mown grass was in the fields.”
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…”