“I have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to that irremediable ruin. There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.”

– Mary Shelley

Frankenstein, Chapter 24. Part of the monster’s final monologue to Robert Walton, after the death of his creator Victor Frankenstein on the ship. Despite taking revenge, he has found no sense of justice.