Human beings are fascinating. They go to great lengths to prove their worth. When they catch a glimmer of hope, they grab and cling onto it tight, believing it is meant for them. A chance to be something greater, to gain power that will put them above their peers. Such ambitions, when becoming too excessive, not only it will endanger oneself, the risks could be fatal for the entire human race as seen from this book. 

I understand that we, as a living being with the ability to think, never stop learning. We discover something new every day and the tendency of wanting to solve every universe's mistery is embedded in ourselves. Yet there must be a line we shouldn't cross. 

Where there is life, there is also death. What Frankenstein did, bestowing a life on a dead matter might be perceived a brilliant idea by those driven solely from burning ardour. In fact, it is unwise to cheat death and play God when your capability is limited.

Frankenstein believed he would be worshipped upon this creation of his. The idea fueled his progress and once it's all used up, he is faced with the horrid reality. It did not come to him then: how the "monster" would behave, if he would adapt to his surroundings, develop feelings, and able to procure complex thoughts. 

The rejection from Frankenstein as the monster's creator was very irresponsible in his part. I find myself (not justifying) sympathizing the monster, for Frankenstein brought this on himself. He is the cause of his own destruction.

Overall, I think it was a remarkable book. The prose is so mesmerizing that I feel like I'll be thinking of this book for a long time.