Showing results for tag "Edgar Allan Poe"
And in so being young and dipped in folly I fell in love with melancholy
"I do not suffer from insanity... I enjoy every minute of it"
And then there stole into my fancy,
like a rich musical note,
the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave.
It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.