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What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the specter which had haunted my midnight pillow. Options
Daemon
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 12:00:00 AM
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What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the specter which had haunted my midnight pillow.

Mary Shelley (1797-1851)
ChristopherJohnson
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 3:05:33 AM

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She was extremely successful in describing a terrifying monster which still terrifies the minds of many. Many stories about creations (robots, androids, software, etc.) revolting against their creators (humans), so popular in modern science fiction, all seem to stem from Mary Shelleys's "Frankenstein Monster".
KSPavan
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 4:30:46 AM

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Quotation of the Day

What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the specter which had haunted my midnight pillow.

Mary Shelley (1797-1851)
KSPavan
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 4:30:46 AM

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Quotation of the Day

What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the specter which had haunted my midnight pillow.

Mary Shelley (1797-1851)
monamagda
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 8:17:16 AM

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Context from:




VOL. I

Introduction


When I placed my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw—with shut eyes, but acute mental vision, —I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handywork, horror-stricken. He would hope that, left to itself, the slight spark of life which he had communicated would fade; that this thing, which had received such imperfect animation, would subside into dead matter; and he might sleep in the belief that the silence of the grave would quench for ever the transient existence of the hideous corpse which he had looked upon as the cradle of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened; he opens his eyes; behold the horrid thing stands at his bedside, opening his curtains, and looking on him with yellow, watery, but speculative eyes.

I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind, that a thrill of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room, the dark parquet, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom; still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred to my ghost story, my tiresome unlucky ghost story! O! if I could only contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been frightened that night!

Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me. "I have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow." On the morrow I announced that I had thought of a story. I began that day with the words, It was on a dreary night of November , making only a transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.

https://www.rc.umd.edu/editions/frankenstein/1831v1/intro

raghd muhi al-deen
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 9:19:42 AM

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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Also found in: Dictionary, Thesaurus, Wikipedia.
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797–1851, English author; daughter of William Godwin

and Mary Wollstonecraft

. In 1814 she fell in love with the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley

, accompanied him abroad, and after the death of his first wife in 1816 was married to him. Her most notable contribution to literature is her novel of terror, Frankenstein, published in 1818. It is the story of a German student who learns the secret of infusing life into inanimate matter and creates a monster that ultimately destroys him. Included among her other novels are Valperga (1823), The Last Man (1826), and the partly autobiographical Lodore (1835). After Shelley's death in 1822, she devoted herself to caring for her aged father and educating her only surviving child, Percy Florence Shelley. In 1839–40 she edited her husband's works.
Bibliography

See her journal (ed. by F. L. Jones, 1947); her letters (ed. by M. Spark and D. Stamford, 1953); biographies by M. Spark (1951, repr. 1988), N. B. Gerson (1973), and M. Seymour (2001); C. Gordon, Romantic Outlaws: The Extraordinary Lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Her Daughter Mary Shelley (2015); studies by W. A. Walling (1972), E. Sunstein (1989), and R. Montillo (2013).
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft

Born Aug. 30, 1797, in London; died there Feb. 1, 1851. English writer. Daughter of W. Godwin; wife of P. B. Shelley.

The hero of Shelley’s novel Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus (1818; Russian translation, 1965) creates a monster that tries to do good, but, embittered by loneliness, kills its creator. A gloomy picture of the coming downfall of mankind through epidemics and starvation is at the center of her novel The Last Man (1826). Shelley also wrote the autobiographical novel Lodore (1835) and commentaries to a posthumous edition of works by P. B. Shelley (1839).
WORKS
The Letters of Mary Shelley, vols. 1–2. Norman, Okla., 1944–46.
Mary Shelley’s Journal. Norman, Okla., 1947.
REFERENCES
Bel’skii, A. A. Angliiskii roman 1800–1810-x gg. Perm’, 1968.
Spark, M. Child of Light. Hadleigh, Essex, 1951.
Small, C. Ariel Like a Harpy. London, 1972.


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with my pleasure
Bully_rus
Posted: Wednesday, September 13, 2017 1:41:48 PM
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Daemon wrote:
What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the specter which had haunted my midnight pillow.

Mary Shelley (1797-1851)


Real life has enough terror without any resort to imaginary ghosts...
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