“One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fiber of my frame. I took from my waistcoat-pocket a penknife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket!”
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.”