Practice Typing
Frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus - Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft ยท 63 words
I expected this reception, said the dmon. All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things. Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life.
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