It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.

There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.

The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature.

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

His conversation was marked by its happy abundance.

I am very averse to bringing myself forward in print, but as my account will only appear as an appendage to a former production, and as it will be confined to such topics as have connection with my authorship alone, I can hardly accuse myself of a personal intrusion.

I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.