I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYI ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYLearn from my miseries, and do not seek to increase your own.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYWhat can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man?
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYWith how many things are we on the brink of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYLife, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYFrom my infancy I was imbued with high hopes and a lofty ambition.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYMan,” I cried, “how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYStanding armies can never consist of resolute robust men; they may be well-disciplined machines, but they will seldom contain men under the influence of strong passions, or with very vigorous faculties.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYTo examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYBut soon, I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYA solitary being is by instinct a wanderer.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYI was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYSupremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavor to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYI felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYThe whole series of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force of reality.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEYThere is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY