Quotes About Author

No one moved to get the whisky, from which I judged there were three pocket flasks ready for emergency.

Way to pronoun, Saunders says.

Despite this pressure, Rodgers and Hammerstein wouldn't cut it—and if you license South Pacific legally, neither can you.

My spirit will sleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.

Anguish and despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within me, which nothing could extinguish.

It is not pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawn from your power.

What a glorious creature must he have been in the day of his prosperity, when he is thus noble and godlike in ruin.

When happy, inanimate nature had the power of bestowing on me the most delightful sensations.

Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity or ruin.

panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never

I felt the greatest eagerness to hear the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a strong desire to ameliorate his fate if it were in my power. I expressed these feelings in my answer.

Oh cursed creator, why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turn from me in disgust?

Do you share my madness?

The only thing I could distinguish was the bright moon, and I fixed my eyes on that with pleasure.

CREATED by an eighteen-year-old girl during the freakishly cold, rainy summer of 1816 while on holiday in Switzerland with her married lover, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and two other writers, the poet Lord Byron and John Polidori, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein would become the foundational work for two important new genres of literature—horror and science fiction.

And I call on you, spirits of the dead, and on you, wandering ministers of vengeance, to aid and conduct me in my work. Let

I read my books with diligence, and mounting skill, and gathering certainty. I read the way a person might swim, to save his or her life. I wrote that way too.

Natural philosophy is the genius that has regulated my fate.

Every time your work is read, you die several deaths for every word, and poetry is like being flayed alive.

Merde, alors,' said the parrot, muffled.

Funny, one somehow imagines her snuffing quietly out now, the way the moon would if the sun vanished.

The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.

You are in the wrong," replied the fiend; "and, instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you.

do not waste your time upon this; it is sad trash.