What defines a monster—its appearance, actions, or the cruelty that isolates it from all sympathy and understanding?
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus, gives an eloquent and tragic voice to the sentient being crafted by Victor Frankenstein.
Often labeled “Frankenstein’s Monster,” the Creature’s narrative reveals a devastating journey from an initial state of bewildered innocence and benevolence to bitter despair, fueled by societal ostracism and, most critically, his creator’s utter abandonment.
We collected and analyzed 33 Frankenstein Monster quotes with page numbers (Penguin Classics 2018 edition).
Each quote, paired with insightful analysis, illuminates his transformation from a hopeful innocent to a tormented outcast, offering deep insight into his complex psyche and Shelley’s enduring themes of creation, responsibility, and the human condition.
These selections challenge us to look beyond the Creature’s form and confront Shelley’s complex questions about prejudice and inherent nature.
Brought into existence as an eight-foot-tall figure of “hideous contrasts,” the Creature’s initial moments are a whirlwind of confusing sensations and a dawning, painful awareness of his profound otherness, particularly when he first beholds his reflection and experiences humanity’s immediate horror.
Awakening and Alienation: The Pain of Existence & Appearance
From his first confusing moments to the horrifying realization of his form, the Creature’s early experiences are defined by bewilderment and immediate rejection. These quotes capture his initial vulnerability and the impact of his appearance on his destiny.
“It is with considerable difficulty that I remember the original era of my being: all the events of that period appear confused and indistinct. A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, and smelt, at the same time; and it was, indeed, a long time before I learned to distinguish between the operations of my various senses.”
(Character: The Creature recalling his first moments, Volume II, Chapter III, Page 95)
The Creature’s recollection of his initial consciousness highlights his unnatural entry into the world—a “strange multiplicity of sensations” lacking the gradual development of a human infant. This sensory overload establishes his inherent difference and the overwhelming task of simply making sense of existence, emphasizing his immediate disorientation.
“but how was I terrified when I viewed myself in a transparent pool! At first I started back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification. Alas! I did not yet entirely know the fatal effects of this miserable deformity.”
(Character: The Creature on seeing his reflection, Volume II, Chapter V)
This pivotal quote captures the Creature’s traumatic moment of self-discovery. Shelley uses the powerful visual of the “transparent pool” not just for reflection, but as a device for the Creature’s horrifying anagnorisis. His initial shock (“started back”) and disbelief give way to “despondence and mortification” as he internalizes his perceived monstrosity. His lament foreshadows the societal rejection his “miserable deformity” will bring, emphasizing the profound psychological impact of appearance.
“Here then I retreated, and lay down, happy to have found a shelter, however miserable, from the inclemency of the season, and still more from the barbarity of man.”
(Character: The Creature finding his hovel, Volume II, Chapter III, Page 97)
The Creature’s statement that he fears the “barbarity of man” more than harsh weather establishes early that human cruelty, not inherent evil, is the primary source of his suffering and shapes his worldview.
“My person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination?”
(Character: The Creature reflecting on his nature, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 120)
His awareness of his “hideous” form fuels a profound existential crisis. The barrage of rhetorical questions underscores his fundamental alienation from the human experience he intellectually grasps but cannot socially or emotionally access.
Isolated and shunned, the Creature embarks on a poignant journey of self-education, observing human society from the shadows. His encounters with language, literature, and the example of the De Lacey family cultivate a deep appreciation for virtue and an agonizing awareness of his profound isolation and perceived unworthiness.
The Yearning Mind: Education, Empathy, and the Agony of Otherness
These quotes reveal the Creature’s remarkable intellectual and emotional development. His capacity for empathy and his desire for connection are tragically juxtaposed with the growing realization of his inescapable otherness, a torment amplified by the knowledge he so ardently acquires.
“I perceived that the words they spoke sometimes produced pleasure or pain, smiles or sadness, in the minds and countenances of the hearers. This was indeed a godlike science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it.”
(Character: The Creature on discovering language, Volume II, Chapter IV, Page 100)
The Creature’s awe at language, deeming it a “godlike science,” highlights his burgeoning intellect and innate human desire for connection. He recognizes the power of words to convey emotion and create bonds, a power he desperately wishes to wield to overcome his loneliness.
“These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous and magnificent, yet so vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle, and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and godlike.”
(Character: The Creature reflecting on history, Volume II, Chapter V, Page 110)
Through reading history (Volney’s Ruins of Empires), the Creature confronts the perplexing dualities of human nature. His observation of mankind’s capacity for both sublime virtue and abject vice creates a “strange feeling,” reflecting his developing moral compass and his struggle to understand the complex beings who have so readily spurned him. Shelley uses this to show his intellectual development mirroring a moral one.
“For a long time I could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased, and I turned away with disgust and loathing.”
(Character: The Creature on learning of human violence, Volume II, Chapter V, Page 110)
This crucial statement reveals the Creature’s initial, profound innocence and inherent aversion to violence. His inability to comprehend murder or the need for societal laws underscores his original benevolent nature. Learning of human “vice and bloodshed” shatters this innocence, replacing “wonder” with “disgust and loathing,” a pivotal moment in his disillusionment with humanity and foreshadowing his tragic path.
“I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow-creatures were, high and unsullied descent united with riches… And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant; but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property… Was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled, and whom all men disowned?”
(Character: The Creature on societal values, Volume II, Chapter V, Page 111)
The Creature’s understanding of human societal values forces a devastating self-assessment. His agonized question, “Was I then a monster…?” reveals his internalization of societal rejection, as he possesses none of the esteemed qualities and is instead marked by his “hideously deformed” figure, rendering him an outcast.
“Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind when it has once seized on it like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death — a state which I feared yet did not understand.”
(Character: The Creature on knowledge’s burden, Volume II, Chapter V, Page 111)
He laments the inescapable burden of consciousness, where increased knowledge only amplifies his suffering. Shelley’s simile, “like a lichen on the rock,” powerfully conveys the tenacity and perhaps parasitic nature of this painful awareness, leading him to contemplate death as the sole escape.
“I can hardly describe to you the effect of these books. They produced in me an infinity of new images and feelings that sometimes raised me to ecstasy, but more frequently sunk me into the lowest dejection.”
(Character: The Creature on literature’s impact, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 119)
Literature shapes the Creature’s understanding, inspiring “ecstasy” with ideals of love and virtue, but more often leading to “dejection” by magnifying his isolation from such human experiences.
“As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings and condition. I found myself similar, yet at the same time strangely unlike to the beings concerning whom I read… Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to solve them.”
(Character: The Creature on his existential crisis, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 120)
Reading compels the Creature into an agonizing existential inquiry. He recognizes shared human feelings and unbridgeable differences, leading to unanswerable questions about his identity and purpose, deepening his alienation.
“Plutarch taught me high thoughts; he elevated me above the wretched sphere of my own reflections, to admire and love the heroes of past ages… I felt the greatest ardour for virtue rise within me, and abhorrence for vice.”
(Character: The Creature influenced by Plutarch, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 120)
Plutarch inspires the Creature with an appreciation for virtue and a desire for noble ideals, highlighting his innate capacity for morality before suffering relentlessly corrupts his initial benevolent spirit.
“Hateful day when I received life!’ I exclaimed in agony. ‘Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred.’”
(Character: The Creature, on Victor’s journal, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 122)
Confronting Victor’s journal, the Creature faces the horror of his creator’s disgust. His eloquent comparison of his state to both divinely created Man and even the communally damned Satan (“Satan had his companions… but I am solitary and abhorred”) powerfully emphasizes his unique and absolute desolation. Shelley’s use of this allusion underscores the depth of his despair and isolation, pushing him towards identifying with the ultimate outcast.
“Increase of knowledge only discovered to me more clearly what a wretched outcast I was. I cherished hope, it is true, but it vanished when I beheld my person reflected in water or my shadow in the moonshine, even as that frail image and that inconstant shade.”
(Character: The Creature on self-perception, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 122)
The Creature describes how growing awareness cruelly reinforces his outcast status, as any hope is extinguished by the visual confirmation of his “miserable deformity.”
“I allowed my thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise, and dared to fancy amiable and lovely creatures sympathizing with my feelings and cheering you gloom…But it was all a dream: no Eve soothed my sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone.”
(Character: The Creature on his loneliness, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 123)
His intense longing for companionship leads to fantasies of acceptance (“fields of Paradise”), contrasting the reality of his solitude (“I was alone”), directly fueling his later plea for an “Eve.”
“I asked, it is true, for greater treasures than a little food or rest: I required kindness and sympathy; but I did not believe myself utterly unworthy of it.”
(Character: The Creature to De Lacey, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 123)
The Creature articulates his profound need for emotional sustenance—”kindness and sympathy”—asserting his belief in the inherent worthiness of these connections despite relentless rejection.
“To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity.”
(Character: The Creature recounting De Lacey’s words, Volume II, Chapter VII, Page 125)
Clinging to De Lacey’s compassionate words, the Creature holds a fragile hope in unbiased human goodness, making the subsequent family rejection all the more crushing.
The devastating rejection by the De Lacey family, his last hope for human connection, marks the Creature’s definitive turning point. His carefully cultivated benevolence shatters, replaced by agonizing despair and an all-consuming vow of vengeance.
From Benevolence to Vengeance: The Turning Point of Rejection
Betrayed by those he admired, the Creature’s narrative darkens. These quotes articulate his sense of injustice, chilling declaration of war on humanity, and tormented demand for a companion.
“I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”
(Character: The Creature to Victor Frankenstein, Volume II, Chapter II, Pages 90-91)
This is the Creature’s core plea and justification: his malevolence is not innate but a result of the “misery” inflicted by rejection. He powerfully argues that companionship (“Make me happy”) could restore his original “benevolent and good” nature, highlighting the theme of nurture shaping morality and placing responsibility on Victor and society.
“Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man!”
(Character: The Creature confronting Victor, Volume II, Chapter II, Page 91)
With biting sarcasm, the Creature exposes Victor’s hypocrisy. He highlights the injustice of Victor condemning him for murder—acts born of neglect—while Victor himself contemplates destroying his creation without remorse, questioning the very foundation of human justice.
“Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed?”
(Character: The Creature after De Lacey rejection, Volume II, Chapter VIII, Page 128)
The De Lacey rejection extinguishes his last hope, and his despair culminates in this anguished cry. He curses Victor for an existence that has brought only suffering, his lament “Why did I live?” underscoring the depth of his pain and wish for annihilation.
“You must create a female for me, with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being.”
(Character: The Creature demanding a companion, Volume II, Chapter IX, Page 136)
This central demand stems from profound loneliness and the understanding that companionship and “sympathies necessary for my being” are essential for a virtuous existence, framing his request as a right for psychological survival.
“One as deformed and horrible as myself, could not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species, and have the same defects… with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being…”
(Character: The Creature on his need for a similar mate, Volume II, Chapter IX, Page 136)
The Creature believes only a being sharing his “deformed and horrible” nature could offer true acceptance, reflecting his painful resignation to outcast status and his deep yearning for understanding.
“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!”
(Character: The Creature’s chilling vow, Volume II, Chapter IX, Page 137)
Denied love and companionship, the Creature makes this pivotal vow, marking his turn towards calculated malevolence. If he cannot connect through affection, he will assert his existence and wrest agency through terror, a desperate response to universal rejection.
“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.”
(Character: The Creature envisioning shared isolation, Volume II, Chapter IX, Page 137)
He finds a bittersweet solace in the idea of shared outcast status, believing mutual isolation would forge an unbreakable bond with a mate, a small world built against universal rejection.
“If I have no ties and no affections, hatred and vice must be my portion; the love of another will destroy the cause of my crimes, and I shall become a thing of whose existence every one will be ignorant. My vices are the children of a forced solitude that I abhor; and my virtues will necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal.”
(Character: The Creature explaining his moral nature, Volume II, Chapter IX, Page 139)
The Creature eloquently argues that his malevolence is a consequence of “forced solitude.” He posits that companionship would eradicate his “vices” by providing the emotional sustenance for his innate “virtues” to flourish, offering Victor a conditional promise of redemption and a powerful commentary on the societal roots of wrongdoing.
In his final, devastating confrontations and his ultimate address to Walton, the Creature expresses the full, agonizing spectrum of his complex being—his immense power born of despair, his tormented capacity for both profound love and devastating hatred, and his harrowing awareness of his tragic existence.
A Creator’s Shadow: Power, Despair, and Final Confessions
The Creature’s last words are imbued with a desperate assertion of power, recognition of his tragic bond with Victor, and profound weariness with suffering. His final declarations reveal his deep self-awareness, moral anguish, and the culmination of his alienation.
“Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master;–obey!”
(Character: The Creature to Victor after female’s destruction, Volume III, Chapter III, Page 162)
The Creature embraces his power to inflict reciprocal misery after his hope for companionship is destroyed. His chilling declaration, “You are my creator, but I am your master,” signifies a terrible inversion of their dynamic, asserting dominance through psychological torment.
“Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”
(Character: The Creature warning Victor, Volume III, Chapter III, Page 163)
The Creature links his fearlessness—born from having nothing left to lose—directly to his capacity for destructive action, making him a formidable adversary unconstrained by societal norms.
“My reign is not yet over… you live, and my power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices of the north, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost to which I am impassive… Come on, my enemy; we have yet to wrestle for our lives…”
(Character: The Creature, in a note to Victor, Volume III, Chapter VII, Page 198)
In this taunting message, the Creature asserts his ongoing dominance, luring Victor towards a final confrontation in the desolate Arctic, a grim testament to his all-consuming revenge that inextricably links their destinies.
“My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine.”
(Character: The Creature to Walton, Volume III, Chapter VII, Page 212)
In his final confession, the Creature describes his innate capacity for goodness (“love and sympathy”), powerfully arguing his descent into “vice and hatred” was a violent, torturous transformation forced by extreme “misery,” underscoring his profound internal suffering.
“The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.”
(Character: The Creature to Walton, Volume III, Chapter VII, Page 214)
Standing over Victor’s corpse, the Creature emphasizes his unique solitude, contrasting his fate even with Satan. This highlights absolute isolation as the root of his tragic transformation into a “malignant devil.”
“I have murdered the lovely and the helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept… You hate me; but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.”
(Character: The Creature confessing to Walton, Volume III, Chapter VII, Pages 214-215)
In a torrent of self-loathing, the Creature confesses his crimes, declaring his self-abhorrence surpasses any hatred others could feel. His catalog of victims emphasizes the innocence he destroyed, contrasting with his initial state. This profound remorse challenges any simple definition of him as purely monstrous, revealing his enduring moral sensibility even amidst his corruption and highlighting the depth of his tragedy.
“Polluted by crimes, and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?”
(Character: The Creature to Walton, Volume III, Chapter VII, Page 215)
The Creature’s final question is a statement of profound despair. Consumed by “bitterest remorse,” he sees death as the only escape from his tortured existence and overwhelming guilt.
“But soon,” he cried, with sad and solemn enthusiasm, “I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pyre triumphantly, and exult in the agony of the torturing flames… My spirit will sleep in peace, or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.”
(Character: The Creature’s final words, Volume III, Chapter VII, Page 216)
The Creature’s final monologue blends “sad and solemn enthusiasm” for his self-destruction. He envisions his death as a cessation of “burning miseries,” a triumphant immolation to obliterate his form and perhaps grant his spirit peace. His farewell signifies a desperate release from a life defined by unintended monstrosity and unbearable suffering, a dramatic assertion of will in ending his pain.
Conclusion: The Enduring Echo of the Outcast
The Creature’s words in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein illuminate a devastating journey from hopeful innocence to embittered despair.
His eloquent articulation of suffering, his yearning for acceptance, and his tragic descent into vengeance force readers to confront the catastrophic consequences of prejudice, societal rejection, and the abdication of creative responsibility.
More than a mere “monster,” the Creature develops profound self-awareness and intellectual capacity, making his isolation agonizing. His narrative challenges our definitions of humanity and monstrosity, suggesting that true evil may lie not in outward appearance but in the failure of empathy and compassion.
The Creature’s quest for love and his revenge are a timeless and powerful warning. His story remains a haunting exploration of what it means to be an outcast, and the responsibilities we bear towards those we bring into the world and those society pushes to its margins.
To explore Victor Frankenstein’s perspective, see our main collection of Frankenstein quotes with page numbers.
A Note on Page Numbers & Edition:
The Creature’s eloquent lamentations are timeless. These page numbers reference the Penguin Classics (January 16, 2018) paperback edition (ISBN-13: 978-0143131847) of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, which utilizes the 1818 text. For academic precision, always verify these page numbers against your specific copy, as pagination can vary across printings of the 1818 text.
Jeremy Mortis, founder of Ageless Investing, applies a rigorous analytical approach (the AAM framework) to distill timeless wisdom and contextualized quotes from classic literature, saving you time while deepening understanding. Learn more about Jeremy’s unique background and methodology on his author bio page.