I fell in love with melancholy

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.

I am walking like a bewitched corpse, with the certainty of being eaten by the infinite, of being annulled by the only existing Absurd.

The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.

As a viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass..., I was so impressed with a sense of vague awe at my appearance ... that I was seized with a violent tremour.

If you are ever drowned or hung, be sure and make a note of your sensations.

In spite of the air of fablethe public were still not at all disposed to receive it as fable. I thence concluded that the facts of my narrative would prove of such a nature as to carry with them sufficient evidence of their own authenticity.