[Frankenstein:
Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change. The sun might shine or the clouds might lower: but nothing could appear to me as it had done the day before.]
[The Scarlet Letter:
Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create a sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, that it overflows upon the outward world.
It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates.
To the untrue man, the whole universe is false, --it is impalpable,--it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist.
I drew thee into my heart, into its innermost chamber, and sought to warm thee by the warmth which thy presence made there!]
[The Great Gatsby:
Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.
Men made it but they can’t control it.
We could have saved you, but you cut us down, and soon you will be cut down and there’ll be none of us to save you.
How can we live without our lives? How will we know its us without our past?
For the quality of owning freezes you forever into “I,” and cuts you off forever from the “we.”
I hear ‘em an’ feel ‘em; an’ they’re beating their wings like a bird in a attic. Gonna bust their wings on a dusty winda tryin’ ta get out.
No- the stars are close and dear and I have joined the brotherhood of the worlds. And everything’s holy- everything, even me.]
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