“For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not — and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul.”
More from Edgar Allan Poe
“We loved with a love that was more than love.”
“The life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of…”
“...for love like mine can never be gotten over.”
“…Years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute.”