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Yazar: Mary Shelley

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Yet he might not have been so perfectly humane, so thoughtful in
his generosity, so full of kindness and tenderness amidst his
passion for adventurous exploit, had she not unfolded to him the
real loveliness of beneficence and made the doing good the end
and aim of his soaring ambition.
I feel exquisite pleasure in dwelling on the recollections of
childhood, before misfortune had tainted my mind and changed its
bright visions of extensive usefulness into gloomy and narrow
reflections upon self. Besides, in drawing the picture of my
early days, I also record those events which led, by insensible
steps, to my after tale of misery, for when I would account to
myself for the birth of that passion which afterwards ruled my
destiny I find it arise, like a mountain river, from ignoble and
almost forgotten sources; but, swelling as it proceeded, it
became the torrent which, in its course, has swept away all my
hopes and joys.

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