I am malicious because I am miserable

. . . the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain.

When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?

...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.

I trembled, and my heart failed within me; when, on looking up, I saw, by the light of the moon, the daemon at the casement.

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

The time at length arrives, when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished.