Dr. Pretorius:
To a new world of gods and monsters!
Dr. Pretorius:
We shall drink to our partnership. Do you like gin? It is my only weakness.
The Monster:
Alone: bad. Friend: good!
Mary Shelley:
It's a perfect night for mystery and horror. The air itself is filled with monsters.
The Monster:
We belong dead!
Dr. Pretorius:
Do you know who Henry Frankenstein is, and who you are?
The Monster:
Yes, I know. Made me from dead. I love dead... hate living.
Dr. Pretorius:
You are wise in your generation. We must have a long talk, and then I have an important call to make.
Dr. Frankenstein:
I've been cursed for delving into the mysteries of life!
The Monster:
I want friend like me.
Dr. Pretorius:
[
looking at the female skeleton he has exhumed to create the Bride] I hope her bones are firm.
The Monster:
You, make man... like me?
Dr. Pretorius:
No. Woman... friend for you
The Monster:
Woman... Friend... Wife...
Dr. Pretorius:
[
to the monster inside the mausoleum] Here, have a cigar... they're my only weakness!
[
last lines]
Dr. Frankenstein:
[
clutching Elizabeth reassuringly] Darling, darling.
Dr. Pretorius:
Sometimes I have wondered whether life wouldn't be much more amusing if we were all devils, no nonsense about angels and being good.
[
first lines]
Lord Byron:
Prologue
[
looking out the window at a thunderstorm]
Lord Byron:
How beautifully dramatic! The cruelest savage exhibition of nature at her worst without.
[
turns to face Mary and Percy Shelley, both seated]
Lord Byron:
And we three. We elegant three within. I should like to think that an irate Jehovah was pointing those arrows of lightning directly at my head. The unbowed head of George Gordon, Lord Byron. England's greatest sinner. But I cannot flatter myself to that extent. Possibly those thunders are for our dear Shelley. Heavens applause for England's greatest poet.
Percy Shelley:
What of my Mary?
Lord Byron:
She's an angel.
Mary Shelley:
You think so?
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