Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man!

None but those who have experienced them can conceive of the enticements of science.

Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?

I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.

Everything must have a beginning ... and that beginning must be linked to something that went before.

...we are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves - such a friend ought to be - do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures.

marriage is usually considered the grave, and not the cradle of love.