my mind is a world in itself, which I have peopled with my own creatures.

Nature formed me fierce.

It is the common failing of an ambitious mind to over-rate itself.

My life has not been the best possible. The slave of impulse, I have rushed forward to my own destruction.

I possessed what is called the best of hearts -- a dangerous possession, as it is generally accompanied by the strongest passions, and the weakest judgment.

real misery delights not in reproaches and complaints. It is like charity and love - silent, long suffering and mild.

He is mad, bad and dangerous to know.