I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me.
Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.
I cannot describe the agony of this suspense.
I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on.
I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.
Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.
The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.
I see by your eagerness and the wonder and hope which your eyes express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with which I am acquainted.
There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand.
I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me.
From that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and, more than all, against him who had formed me and sent me forth to this insupportable misery.
I am malicious because I am miserable.
My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine.
I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.
I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul.
The cup of life was poisoned forever; and although the sun shone upon me, as upon the happy and gay of heart, I saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness, penetrated by no light but the glimmer of two eyes that glared upon me.
I was guileless and unsuspecting; the raw sounds of my voice chased away my friends.
He showed unparalleled malignity and selfishness in evil; he destroyed my friends.
The tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes.
Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us.
Was man, indeed a blot upon the earth, from which all things fled and whom all things disowned?
The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.
I had goals, and I lacked the physical dexterity to achieve them.
In my solitude of heart, I have often wished for the friendship of a fellow creature.
Unite some wild beast to this children’s play.
I, the miserable and abandoned, am an abortion.
Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds which I should first break through and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.
I continued in hasty pursuit of the demon; who, on foot, was far from being able to escape.
You are in the wrong, and instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you.
The world to me was a secret, which I desired to divine.
But even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am quite alone.
Stop! Spare me! Spare me! You have no power over me! I am prepared to die. Do your worst.
I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart.
Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity.
I desired love and fellowship, and I was alone.
He was expecting my death, and he ought to know that I am immortal.
I am solitary and abhorred.
Do not mock me or punish me.
If misery has not made me a fiend, it will make me such.
Oh, Frankenstein, be warned; if you follow my vengeful desires, misery will cling to you forever.
You are in the wrong, and instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you.
Many times I have considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition.
I cannot describe the horror that flashed across my brain.
It is solitude that makes me thus; for I have tried the companionship of mountains, the caves of men, and found them barren of human intercourse.
I shall collect my funeral piles and consume to ashes this miserable frame.
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