"Some years ago, when the images which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt the cheering warmth of summer and heard the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept to die; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?"
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Novelists from EnglandHistorical novelistsTravel writersShort story writers from EnglandScience fiction authors from England
Original Language: English
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The monster to Robert Walton
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Mary_Shelley
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