The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

by Robert Louis Stevenson

It was his custom of a Sunday, when this meal was over, to sit close by the fire, a volume of some dry divinity on his reading-desk, until the clock of the neighbouring church rang out the hour of twelve, when he would go soberly and gratefully to bed.

“Now I shall know you again,” said Mr. Utterson. “It may be useful.”

my poor old Harry Jekyll, if ever I read Satan’s signature upon a face, it is on that of your new friend.”

This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever for.”

“Pull yourself together, Bradshaw,”

I was still cursed with my duality of purpose; and as the first edge of my penitence wore off, the lower side of me, so long indulged, so recently chained down, began to growl for licence.

reflected, I was like my neighbours; and then I smiled, comparing myself with other men, comparing my active goodwill with the lazy cruelty of their neglect. And

Here then, as I lay down the pen and proceed to seal up my confession, I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end.