Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh — but smile no more.

Perversity is the human thirst for self-torture.

I have made no money. I am as poor now as ever I was in my life - except in hope, which is by no means bankable.

I seemed to be upon the verge of comprehension, without the power to comprehend as men, at time, find themselves upon the brink of rememberance, without being able, in the end, to remember.

The analytical power should not be confounded with simple ingenuity; for while the analyst is necessarily ingenious, the ingenious man is often remarkably incapable of analysis.

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.