“But my father; my beloved and most wretched father? Would he die? Would he never overcome the fierce passion that now held pitiless dominion over him? Might he not many, many years hence, when age had quenched the burning sensations that he now experienced, might he not then be again a father to me?”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.comTagged: father
“I found if sorrow was dead within me, so was love and desire of sympathy. Yet sorrow only slept to revive more fierce, but love never woke again--its ghost, ever hovering over my father's grave, alone survived--since his death all the world was to me a blank except where woe had stampt its burning w…”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.comTagged: Sorrow
“O, hours of intense delight! Short as ye were ye are made as long to me as a whole life when looked back upon through the mist of grief that rose immediately after as if to shut ye from my view. Alas! ye were the last of happiness that I ever enjoyed; a few, a very few weeks and all was destroyed.”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.comTagged: Happiness
“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.”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.comTagged: Spring
“It is only four o'clock; but it is winter and the sun has already set: there are no clouds in the clear, frosty sky to reflect its slant beams, but the air itself is tinged with a slight roseate colour which is again reflected on the snow that covers the ground.”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.comTagged: Winter
“He loved her with passion and her tenderness had a charm for him that would not permit him to think of aught but her.”— Mary Shelley, online-literature.com
“But my pleasures arose from the contemplation of nature alone, I had no companion: my warm affections finding no return from any other human heart were forced to run waste on inanimate objects.”— Mary Shelley, books.google.comTagged: Nature