Книга · Frankenstein
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Автор: Mary Shelley
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I did not pretend to enter into the merits of the case, yet I
inclined towards the opinions of the hero, whose extinction I
wept, without precisely understanding it.
"As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings
and condition. I found myself similar yet at the same time
strangely unlike to the beings concerning whom I read and to
whose conversation I was a listener. I sympathised with and
partly understood them, but I was unformed in mind; I was
dependent on none and related to none. 'The path of my departure
was free,' and there was none to lament my annihilation. My
person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did this mean?
Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my
destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was
unable to solve them.
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