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.

No man who ever lived knows any more about the hereafter than you and I.

Once upon a midnight dreary

True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had haunted my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Of all the sense of hearing acute.

That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.

For years your name never passed my lips, while my soul drank in, with a delirious thirst, all that was uttered in my presence respecting you.