If each, I told myself, could but be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to the disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil. Pg 53
Then these agonies began swiftly to subside, and I came to myself as if out of a great sickness. There was something strange in my sensations, something indescribably new and, from its very novelty, incredibly sweet. I felt younger, lighter, happier in body; within I was conscious of a heady recklessness, a current of disordered sensual images running like a mill race in my fancy, a solution of the bonds of obligation, an unknown but not an innocent freedom of the soul. I knew myself, at the first breath of this new life, to be more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a slave to my original evil; and the thought, in that moment, braced and delighted me like wine. I stretched out my hands, exulting in the freshness of these sensations, and in the act, I was suddenly aware that I have lost in stature. Pg. 54
The evil side of my nature, to which I had now transferred the stamping efficacy, was less robust and less developed than the good which I had just deposed. Again, in the course of my life, which had been, after all, nine tenths a life of effort, virtue and control, it had been much less exerciced and much less exhausted. [...] This, too, was myself. It seemed natural and human. In my eyes it bore a livelier image of the spirit, it seemed more express and single, than the imperfect and divided countenance, I had been hitherto accustomed to call mine. Pg.55
Hence, although I had now two characters as well as two appearances, one was wholly evil, and the other was still the old Henry Jeckyll, that incongruous compound of whose reformation and improvement I had already learned to despair. Pg. 56
Hyde had more than son’s indifference. To cast in my lot with Jekyll, was to die to those appetites which I had long secretly indulged and had of late begun to pamper. To cast it with Hyde, was to die a thousand interests and aspirations, and to become, at blow and forever, despised and friendless. The bargain might appear unequal; but there was still another consideration in the scales; for while Jekyll would suffer smartingly in the fires of abstinence, Hyde would be not even conscious of all he had lost. Strange as my circumstances were, the term of this debate are as old as commonplace as man; . Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Pg. 59
‘The people of that house…’ I began.
‘But he interrupted me with a savage outburst. ‘The people?’ he cried. ‘What people? There are neither men nor women in that house of Satan’s! What? have you lived here so long, and never heard?’ And here put he put his mouth to my ear and whispered, as if even de fowls of the mountain might have overheard and been stricken with horror./ What he told me was not true, nor was even original; being, indeed, nut a new edition, vamped up again by village ignorance and superstition, of stories nearly as ancient as the race of man. Pg 136
The face looked down upon me with a painful and deadly contraction; but the rays of glory encircled it, and reminded me that the sacrifice was voluntary. Olalla Pg 138
Drama is the poetry of conduct, romance the poetry of circumstance. The pleasure that we take in life is of two sorts -the active and de passive. Now we are conscious of a great command over our destiny; anon we lifted up by circumstance, as by a breaking wave, and dashed we know not how into the future. Now we are pleased by a conduct, anon merely pleased by our surroundings. It would be hard to say which of these modes of satisfaction is the more effective, but the latter is surely the more constant. [...] healthy relations; where interest turns, not upon what a man shall choose to do, but on how manages to do it; [...] With such material as this is impossible to build a play, for the serious theatre exists solely on moral grounds, and is a standing proof of the dissemination of the human conscience. But it is possible to build, upon this ground, the most joyous of verses, and the most lively, beautiful, an buoyant tales. Pg 140
Here are stories, which powerfully affect the reader, which can be reperused at any age, and where the characters are no more than puppets. The bony fist of the showman visibly propels them; their springs are an open secret; their faces are of wood, their bellies filled with bran; and yet we thrillingly partake of their adventures. [...] satisfy the reader’s mind like things to eat. Pg 143 A gossip on romance.
I am sometimes tempted to suppose he is not a story-teller at all, but a creature as matter of fact as any cheesemonger or any cheese, and a realist bemirer up to the ears in actuality; so that, by account, uct of some Brownie, som Familiar, some unseen collaborator, whom I keep locked in back garret, while I get all the praise and he but share (which I cannot prevent him getting) of the pudding. Pg 150 A chapter on dreams.
It is impossible to describe the feeling of unreality that I have about everything: I assure myself over and over again that I am myself, but still I cannot make impressions take their proper hold of me, and come into fit relations of familiarity with my true self; between my present self and my past self it seems as if an eternity of time and an infinity of space were interposed; the suffering that I endure is indescribable: -such is the kind of language by which these persons endeavour to express the profound change in themselves which they feel only too painfully but cannot describe adequately. Pg 165 APPENDIX A from HENRY MAUDSLY, ‘THE DISINTEGRATIONS OF THE “EGO”’