With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted -- Nevermore!

I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity.

If the propositions of this Discourse are tenable, the "state of progressive collapse" is precisely that state in which alone we are warranted in considering All Things.

And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair.

Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health.