Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made.
Edgar Allan PoeVillains!' I shrieked. 'Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! Tear up the planks! Here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!
Edgar Allan PoeOut- out are the lights- out all! And, over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
Edgar Allan PoeTake thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!โ Quoth the raven, โNevermore.
Edgar Allan Poe