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Frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus - Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft ยท 57 words
Frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus - Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
After some weeks my wound healed, and I continued my journey. The labours I endured were no longer to be alleviated by the bright sun or gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mockery which insulted my desolate state and made me feel more painfully that I was not made for the enjoyment of pleasure.
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