“To be thoroughly conversant with Man’s heart, is to take our final lesson in the iron-clasped volume of Despair”

“...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair.”

“I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron to urge me?”

“At length for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold on the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. I felt that I tottered upon the brink -- I averted my eyes --”

“Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.”

“When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straight jacket.”

“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”