Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity or ruin. One event, one sudden and irresistible event, bursts these ligaments; and we appear a mere plaything of chance and passion.
Victor imagines character as tied with delicate threads. The metaphor makes moral stability feel fragile and precious. Reflection replaces bravado; he admits how little it takes to overturn a life. Shelley denies the myth of the invulnerable self. The “one event” echoes the novel’s catalytic moments—creation, refusal, loss. Philosophically, the line humbles certainty. It resonates because we’ve all felt how small hinges swing big doors.