Chapter 9

• “Justine died; she rested; and I was alive.”
• “the blood flowed freely in my veins.”
• I wandered like an evil spirit
• “I had begun life with benevolent intentions, and thirsted for a moment when I should put them in practice, and make myself useful to my fellow beings.”
• hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures, such as no language can describe
• “I shunned the face of man [...] solitude was my only consolation – deep, dark, deathlike solitude.”
• “but is it not a duty to the survivors, that we should refrain from augmenting their unhappiness by an appearance of immoderate grief?”
• “excessive sorrow prevents improvement or enjoyment”
• “Now I could only answer my father with a look of despair, and endeavour to hide myself from his view.”
• “The shutting of the gates regularly at ten o’clock, and the impossibility of remaining on the lake after that hour, had rendered our residence within the walls of Geneva very irksome to me. I was now free.”
• “I left the boat to pursue its own course”
• Often, I say, was tempted to plunge into that silent lake, that the water might close over me and my calamities forever
• “I had been the author of unalterable evils”
• “When I reflected on his crimes and malice, my hatred and revenge burst all bounds of moderation.”
• When I thought of him , I gnashed my teeth and my eyes became inflamed
• she no longer took delight in her ordinary occupations
• “innocence so blasted and destroyed.”
• that I read in books or heard from others, as tales of ancient days, or imaginary evils; at least they were remote, and more familiar to reason than imagination; but now misery has come home
• men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood.
• “In, not in deed but in effect, was the true murderer.”
• “Remember the friends around you, who centre all their hopes in you. Have we lost the power of rendering you happy?”
• “Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe: accents of love were ineffectual.
• The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some untrodden brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had pierced it, and to die – was but a type of me.
• “My wanderings were directed towards the valley of Chamounix.”
• rendered sublime by the mighty Alps
• “The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal nature bade me weep no more.”
• “when I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt as it came, and blest the giver of oblivion.”-
• I found myself fettered again to grief