“For at all times we must so serve Him with the good things He has given us, that he may not, as an angry Father, disinherit his children, nor as a dread Lord, provoked by our evil deeds, deliver us to everlasting punishment as wicked servants who refuse to follow Him to glory.”
“Anancy walked on, carrying the yam. He came to a little open shed where a blacksmith was beating a piece of iron. As he worked the blacksmith ate charcoal with his sweat all over it.”
“The mother was grateful. She took the oil from Anancy. She thanked him. She said ‘You took one of my children. Too many. Too many to feed. Too many to clothe. But first, promise promise you’ll look after him.”
“Frankenstein, your son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he who would spend each vital drop of blood for your sakes, who has no thought nor sense of joy except as it is mirrored also in your dear countenances, who would fill the air with blessings and spend his life in serving you—he bids you weep, to shed countless tears; happy beyond his hopes, if thus inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction pause before the peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad torments!”