Boston: Their hotels are bad. Their pumpkin pies are delicious. Their poetry is not so good.

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more.

The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn,—not the material of my every-day existence--but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.

True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?

That single thought is enough. The impulse increases to a wish, the wish to a desire, the desire to an uncontrollable longing, and the longing (to the deep regret and mortification of the speaker, and in defiance of all consequences,) is indulged.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

It may well be doubted whether human ingenuity can construct an enigma... which human ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve.