Kitap · Frankenstein
Sayfa 156 / 483
Yazar: Mary Shelley
Süre0:00
Hız (WPM)0.0
Doğruluk100.0%
Başlat düğmesine bastıktan sonra yazmaya başla. · Backspace devre dışı — yanlış yazsan da devam et.
And could not such words from her whom I fondly prized before
every other gift of fortune suffice to chase away the fiend that
lurked in my heart? Even as she spoke I drew near to her, as if
in terror, lest at that very moment the destroyer had been near
to rob me of her.
Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth,
nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe; the very accents of
love were ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no
beneficial influence could penetrate. 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.
Başlat düğmesine bastıktan sonra yazmaya başla.
Başlatılmadı