the sentiment of immediate loss in some sort decayed, while that of utter, irremediable loneliness grew on me with time.

How mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we have of life even in the excess of misery!

I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine.

Sorrow only increased with knowledge.

In my joy I thrust my hand into the live embers, but quickly drew it out with a cry of pain. How strange, I thought that the same cause should produce such opposite effects.

The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned.

I saw -- with shut eyes, but acute mental vision -- I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half-vital motion.