Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!

The eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of sorrow

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore! Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.

Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.

To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths!

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

If you have never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of the confusion of mind occasioned by wind and spry together. They blind, deafen, and strangle you, and take away all power of action or reflection.