Mary Shelley Quotes

She could not bear to look at him just now. If she did, she might well slap him again. Or cry. Or kiss him. And never know which was right and which was wrong and which was madness.

We must love, as looking one day to hate.

Oh love and hate are two sides of the same blade

Love and hate. Same passion. Same impulse

In one moment I was feeling everything and I was feeling nothing.

It's tempting to imagine how we could hurt someone close, because it reminds us how fiercely we love them.

Kind pity chokes my spleen.

I like devilish, thorny, dirty, mean roles, muck and mire, unbelievably sad, unbelievably happy, burdened. Inner conflict - that's where drama is.

I loved her. I still love her, though I curse her in my sleep, so nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devasting emotions that control man, nations, life.

Sometimes I want to party, sometimes I want to fight and sometimes I want to cry.

I think I have a pattern of nice and lovely and then dark and twisted.

Well, there are all kind of hearts. There are bleeding hearts and there are hard hearts.

I'm the angriest and most empathetic person you'll ever meet.

But - I cannot make a choice. I have my own sorrow, but I suffer with him, too; I share his pain. I understand all - that is my trouble.

The greatest mania of all is passion: and I am a natural slave to passion: the balance between my brain and my soul and my body is as wild and delicate as the skin of a Ming vase.

Hate can pardon more than love.

My heart says one thing. My head says another. Very hard to get your heart and head together in life.

Love. It's so close to hate, it's almost indistinguishable. But this is how it was for the two of them. Love and hate. Life and death. Joy and anguish.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

The passions often engender their contraries.

In his deepest heart there surge tremendous shame and madness mixed with sorrow and love whipped on by frenzy and a courage aware of its own worth.

She knew, of course that she was being supremely unfair, that Franz was the best man she ever had- he was intelligent, he understood her paintings, he was handsome and good-but the more she thought about it, the more she longed to ravish his intelligence, defile his kindheartedness, and violate his powerless strength

My heart raced. He needs you, I thought. Don't let him down. I couldn't remember ever being so happy... or so scared.

Heavy, heavy-hearted people grow lighter and rise occasionally to their surface through precisely that which makes others heavier,through hatred and love.