The Spectacles
THE SPECTACLES by Edgar Allan Poe MANY years ago, it was the fashion to ridicule the idea of “love at first sight;” but those who think, not less than those who feel deeply, have always advocated its existence. Modern discoveries, indeed, in what may be termed ethical magnetism or magnetoesthetics, render it probable that the […]
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The Murders in the Rue Morgue
THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE by Edgar Allan Poe What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, although puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture. —Sir Thomas Browne. The mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate […]
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William Wilson
WILLIAM WILSON by Edgar Allan Poe What say of it? what say of CONSCIENCE grim, That spectre in my path? Chamberlayne’s Pharronida. LET me call myself, for the present, William Wilson. The fair page now lying before me need not be sullied with my real appellation. This has been already too much an object for […]
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Why The Little Frenchman Wears His Hand In A Sling
WHY THE LITTLE FRENCHMAN WEARS HIS HAND IN A SLING by Edgar Allan Poe IT’S on my visiting cards sure enough (and it’s them that’s all o’ pink satin paper) that inny gintleman that plases may behould the intheristhin words, “Sir Pathrick O’Grandison, Barronitt, 39 Southampton Row, Russell Square, Parrish o’ Bloomsbury.” And shud ye […]
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