I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. - Mary Wollstonecraft

I am alone and miserable. Only someone as ugly as I am could love me.

It would be an endless task to trace the variety of meannesses, cares, and sorrows, into which women are plunged by the prevailing opinion that they were created rather to feel than reason, and that all the power they obtain, must be obtained by their charms and weakness.

So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein — more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.