One As Deformed And Horrible As Myself,

It Is A Strange Feeling For A Girl When First She Finds The Power Put Into Her Hand Of Influencing The Destiny Of Another To Happiness Or Misery. She Is Like A Magician Holding For The First Time A Fairy Wand, Not Having Yet Had Experience Of Its Potency.

Why Did I Not Die? More Miserable Than Man Ever Was Before, Why Did I Not Sink Into Forgetfulness And Rest? Death Snatches Away Many Blooming Children, The Only Hopes Of Their Doting Parents: How Many Brides And Youthful Lovers Have Been One Day In The Bloom Of Health And Hope, And The Next A Prey For Worms And The Decay Of The Tomb! Of What Materials Was I Made, That I Could Thus Resist So Many Shocks, Which, Like The Turning Of The Wheel, Continually Renewed The Torture? But I Was Doomed To Live.

I, A Miserable Wretch, Haunted By A Curse That Shut Up Every Avenue To Enjoyment.

The Careful Rearer Of The Ductile Human Plant Can Instil His Own Religion, And Surround The Soul By Such A Moral Atmosphere, As Shall Become To Its Latest Day The Air It Breathes.

My Reign Is Not Yet Over... You Live, And My Power Is Complete. Follow Me; I Seek The Everlasting Ices Of The North, Where You Will Feel The Misery Of Cold And Frost To Which I Am Impassive. You Will Find Near This Place, If You Follow Not Too Tardily, A Dead Hare; Eat And Be Refreshed. Come On, My Enemy; We Have Yet To Wrestle For Our Lives; But Many Hard And Miserable Hours Must You Endure Until That Period Shall Arrive.