Книга · Frankenstein
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Автор: Mary Shelley
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But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No
guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found
comparable to mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my
sins, I cannot believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts
were once filled with sublime and transcendent visions of the
beauty and the majesty of goodness. But it is even so; the fallen
angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and
man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.
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