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Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.
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human
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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The world to me was a secret, which I desired to discover; to her it was a vacancy, which she sought to people with imaginations of her own.
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to disturb his tranquility. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this rule. If the study to which you apply yourself has a tendency to weaken your affections and to destroy your taste for those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that study is certainly unlawful, tha..
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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Nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose- a point on which the soul can focus its intellectual eye
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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I also became a poet, and for one year lived in a Paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated.
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poet
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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She was no longer that happy creature who in earlier youth wandered with me on the banks of the lake and talked with ecstasy of our future prospects. The first of those sorrows which are sent to wean us from the earth had visited her, and its dimming influence quenched her dearest smiles.
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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Her countenance was all expression; her eyes were not dark but impenetrably deep; you seemed to discover space after space in their intellectual glance.
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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He is dead who called me into being, and when I shall be no more the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish.
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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I am unstable, sometimes melancholy, and have been called on some occasions imperious; but I never did an ungenerous act in my life. I sympathise warmly with others, and have wasted my heart in their love.
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |
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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 sympathized with, and partly understood them, but I was unformed in mind, I was dependent on none, and related to none . . . and there was none to lament my annihilation . . . what did this mean? Who was I? What was I?..
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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley |