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𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.
Her wild and enthusiastic imagination was chastened by the sensibility of her heart. Her soul overflowed with ardent affections, and her friendship was of that devoted and wondrous nature that the worldly-minded teach us to look for only in the imagination. But even human sympathies were not sufficient to satisfy her eager mind. The scenery of external nature, which others regard only with admiration, she loved with ardour.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 — Mary Shelley (1818)
Volume III, Chapter I
(𝑉𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐶𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑙, 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅)
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