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

My own mind began to grow, watchful with anxoius thoughts.

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

A solitary being is by instinct a wanderer.

Unhappy man! Do you share my maddness? Have you drunk also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me; let me reveal my tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!

What is there so fearful as the expectation of evil tidings delayed? ... Misery is a more welcome visitant when she comes in her darkest guise and wraps us in perpetual black, for then the heart no longer sickens with disappointed hope.

With how many things are we on the brink of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries.