Poe's "The Tell Tale Heart"

Hearken! and observe how healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

Passion there was none.

He had the eye of a vulture --a pale blue eye, with a film over it.

You fancy me mad.

You should have seen how wisely I proceeded --with what caution --with what foresight --with what dissimulation I went to work!

And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head.

And this I did for seven long nights --every night just at midnight --but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye.

And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night.

So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers --of my sagacity.

I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph.

His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

It was not a groan of pain or of grief --oh, no! --it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe.

It was not a groan of pain or of grief --oh, no! --it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe.

Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me.

I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart.

Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain.

And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel --although he neither saw nor heard --to feel the presence of my head within the room.

And now a new anxiety seized me --the sound would be heard by a neighbour!

But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound.

This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall.

At length it ceased.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body.

The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.

First of all I dismembered the corpse.

I had been too wary for that.

There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police.

In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

I talked more quickly --more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased.

They heard! --they suspected! --they knew! --they were making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, and this I think.

Anything was more tolerable than this derision!