And Darkness And Decay And The Red

Once Upon A Midnight Dreary

Music, When Combined With A Pleasurable Idea, Is Poetry; Music, Without The Idea, Is Simply Music; The Idea, Without The Music, Is Prose, From Its Very Definitiveness.

The True Genius Shudders At Incompleteness - And Usually Prefers Silence To Saying Something Which Is Not Everything It Should Be.

I Was Never Kinder To The Old Man Than During The Whole Week Before I Killed Him.

The Reproduction Of What The Senses Perceive In Nature Through The Veil Of The Soul.