My Spirit Will Sleep In Peace; Or

When I Run Over The Frightful Catalogue Of My Sins, I Cannot Believe That I Am The Same Creature Whose Thoughts Were Once Filled With Sublime And Transcendent Visions Of The Beauty And The Majesty Of Goodness. But It Is Even So; The Fallen Angel Becomes A Malignant Devil.

Elegance Is Inferior To Virtue.

I See By Your Eagerness, And The Wonder And Hope Which Your Eyes Express, My Friend, That You Expect To Be In Formed Of The Secret With Which I Am Acquainted. That Cannot Be.

Oh! Stars And Clouds And Winds, Ye Are All About To Mock Me; If Ye Really Pity Me, Crush Sensation And Memory; Let Me Become As Nought; But If Not, Depart, Depart, And Leave Me In Darkness.

Listen To Me, Frankenstein. You Accuse Me Of Murder; And Yet You Would, With A Satisfied Conscience, Destroy Your Own Creature. Oh, Praise The Eternal Justice Of Man!