Share this page: The mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate them only in their effects. We know of them, among other things, that they are always to their possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliest enjoyment. As the strong man exults in his physical ability, delighting in such exercises as call his muscles into action, so glories the analyst in that moral activity which disentangles. He derives pleasure from even the most trivial occupations bringing his talent into play. He is fond of enigmas, of conundrums, of hieroglyphics; exhibiting in his solutions of each a degree of acumen which appears to the ordinary apprehension præternatural. His results, brought about by the very soul and essence of method, have, in truth, the whole air of intuition. -- The Murders in the Rue Morgue (1841) Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-                 Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-                 Nameless here for evermore. -- "The Raven" (1844), stanzas 1 and 2 Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, 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." -- "The Raven" (1844), stanza 8 It was many and many a year ago,    In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know    By the name of ANNABEL LEE;-- And this maiden she lived with no other thought    Than to love and be loved by me. She was a child and I was a child,    In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love--    I and my Annabel Lee-- With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven    Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago,    In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud by night    Chilling my Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsman came    And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre    In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,    Went envying her and me:-- Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,    In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling    And killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love    Of those who were older than we--    Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in Heaven above,    Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:-- For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,    In her sepulchre there by the sea--    In her tomb by the side of the sea. -- "Annabel Lee" (1849) Share this page:

The selection of the above quotes and the writing of the accompanying notes was performed by the author David Paul Wagner. About Us • Contact Us • Privacy • Terms of Use © 2005-23 Wide World of Quotes. All Rights Reserved.