I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never without a pocket-handkerchief.
Edgar Allan PoeMen die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors ... on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer themselves to be revealed.
Edgar Allan PoeBut in the expression of the countenance, which was beaming all over with smiles, there still lurked (incomprehensible anomalyl) that fitful strain of melancholy which will ever be found inseparable from the perfection of the beautiful.
Edgar Allan Poe