The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

“If he be Mr. Hyde,” he had thought, “I shall be Mr. Seek.”

There comes an end to all things;

put your heart in your ears

“I thought it was mad­ness,” he said, as he re­placed the ob­nox­ious pa­per in the safe, “and now I be­gin to fear it is dis­grace.”

No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask

the fire, a volume

I feel very strongly about put­ting ques­tions; it par­takes too much of the style of the day of judg­ment. You start a ques­tion, and it’s like start­ing a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, start­ing oth­ers; and presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of) is knocked on the head in his own back garden and the fam­ily have to change their name. No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask.

bring the life of that un­happy Henry Je­kyll to an end.

Hence the ape­like tricks that he would play me, scrawl­ing in my own hand blas­phemies on the pages of my books, burn­ing the let­ters and des­troy­ing the por­trait of my father; and in­deed, had it not been for his fear of death, he would long ago have ruined him­self in or­der to in­volve me in the ruin. But his love of me is won­der­ful; I go fur­ther: I, who sicken and freeze at the mere thought of him, when I re­call the ab­jec­tion and pas­sion of this at­tach­ment, and when I know how he fears my power to cut him off by sui­cide, I find it in my heart to pity him.

lay caged in his flesh, where he heard it mut­ter and felt it struggle to be born; and at every hour of weak­ness, and in the con­fid­ence of slum­ber, pre­vailed against him, and de­posed him out of life. The hatred of Hyde for Je­kyll was of a dif­fer­ent or­der.