Authors:
  • For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and miserable fears to which these sights were the monuments and the remembrances. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains, and look around me with a free and lofty spirit; but the iron had eaten into my flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self.

    Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1869). “Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus”, p.127