{"id":2791,"date":"2018-05-03T07:11:18","date_gmt":"2018-05-03T11:11:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/orionscoldfire.com\/?p=2791"},"modified":"2018-05-03T07:11:18","modified_gmt":"2018-05-03T11:11:18","slug":"03may2018-quote-of-the-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orionscoldfire.com\/index.php\/2018\/05\/03\/03may2018-quote-of-the-day\/","title":{"rendered":"03MAY2018 – Quote of the Day"},"content":{"rendered":"

It’s so short (and in the public domain!) how could I abridge this magnificent malignancy?<\/strong><\/p>\n

THE TELL-TALE HEART by Edgar Allan Poe<\/pre>\n
TRUE!--nervous--very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but\r\nwhy will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses--not\r\ndestroyed--not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I\r\nheard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things\r\nin hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily--how\r\ncalmly I can tell you the whole story.\r\n\r\nIt is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once\r\nconceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion\r\nthere was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had\r\nnever given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his\r\neye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture--a pale blue eye,\r\nwith a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and\r\nso by degrees--very gradually--I made up my mind to take the life of the\r\nold man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.\r\n\r\nNow this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you\r\nshould have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded--with\r\nwhat caution--with what foresight--with what dissimulation I went to\r\nwork! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week\r\nbefore I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch\r\nof his door and opened it--oh so gently! And then, when I had made an\r\nopening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed,\r\nclosed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh,\r\nyou would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it\r\nslowly--very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man\u2019s\r\nsleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so\r\nfar that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have\r\nbeen so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I\r\nundid the lantern cautiously--oh, so cautiously--cautiously (for the\r\nhinges creaked)--I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell\r\nupon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights--every night\r\njust at midnight--but I found the eye always closed; and so it was\r\nimpossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but\r\nhis Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into\r\nthe chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a\r\nhearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he\r\nwould have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every\r\nnight, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.\r\n\r\nUpon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the\r\ndoor. A watch\u2019s minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never\r\nbefore that night had I felt the extent of my own powers--of my\r\nsagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think\r\nthat there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to\r\ndream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and\r\nperhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled.\r\nNow you may think that I drew back--but no. His room was as black as\r\npitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened,\r\nthrough fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the\r\nopening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.\r\n\r\nI had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb\r\nslipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying\r\nout--\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d\r\n\r\nI kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a\r\nmuscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still\r\nsitting up in the bed listening;--just as I have done, night after\r\nnight, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.\r\n\r\nPresently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal\r\nterror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief--oh, no!--it was the low\r\nstifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged\r\nwith awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when\r\nall the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with\r\nits dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well.\r\nI knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at\r\nheart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight\r\nnoise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since\r\ngrowing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could\r\nnot. He had been saying to himself--\u201cIt is nothing but the wind in the\r\nchimney--it is only a mouse crossing the floor,\u201d or \u201cIt is merely a\r\ncricket which has made a single chirp.\u201d Yes, he had been trying to\r\ncomfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain.\r\nAll in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his\r\nblack shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the\r\nmournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to\r\nfeel--although he neither saw nor heard--to feel the presence of my head\r\nwithin the room.\r\n\r\nWhen I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie\r\ndown, I resolved to open a little--a very, very little crevice in\r\nthe lantern. So I opened it--you cannot imagine how stealthily,\r\nstealthily--until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the\r\nspider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.\r\n\r\nIt was open--wide, wide open--and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I\r\nsaw it with perfect distinctness--all a dull blue, with a hideous\r\nveil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see\r\nnothing else of the old man\u2019s face or person: for I had directed the ray\r\nas if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.\r\n\r\nAnd have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but\r\nover-acuteness of the sense?--now, I say, there came to my ears a low,\r\ndull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I\r\nknew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man\u2019s heart. It\r\nincreased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into\r\ncourage.\r\n\r\nBut even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the\r\nlantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon\r\nthe eve. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew\r\nquicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man\u2019s\r\nterror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every\r\nmoment!--do you mark me well I have told you that I am nervous: so I am.\r\nAnd now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of\r\nthat old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable\r\nterror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But\r\nthe beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now\r\na new anxiety seized me--the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The\r\nold man\u2019s hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern\r\nand leaped into the room. He shrieked once--once only. In an instant\r\nI dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then\r\nsmiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the\r\nheart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it\r\nwould not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man\r\nwas dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone,\r\nstone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many\r\nminutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would\r\ntrouble me no more.\r\n\r\nIf still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe\r\nthe wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night\r\nwaned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered\r\nthe corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.\r\n\r\nI then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and\r\ndeposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so\r\ncleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye--not even his--could have\r\ndetected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out--no stain of any\r\nkind--no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had\r\ncaught all--ha! ha!\r\n\r\nWhen I had made an end of these labors, it was four o\u2019clock--still dark\r\nas midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the\r\nstreet door. I went down to open it with a light heart,--for what had\r\nI now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with\r\nperfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by\r\na neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused;\r\ninformation had been lodged at the police office, and they (the\r\nofficers) had been deputed to search the premises.\r\n\r\nI smiled,--for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The\r\nshriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was\r\nabsent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade\r\nthem search--search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I\r\nshowed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of\r\nmy confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here\r\nto rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of\r\nmy perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which\r\nreposed the corpse of the victim.\r\n\r\nThe officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was\r\nsingularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they\r\nchatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale\r\nand wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my\r\nears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more\r\ndistinct:--It continued and became more distinct: I talked more\r\nfreely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained\r\ndefiniteness--until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my\r\nears.\r\n\r\nNo doubt I now grew _very_ pale;--but I talked more fluently, and with a\r\nheightened voice. Yet the sound increased--and what could I do? It was\r\na low, dull, quick sound--much such a sound as a watch makes when\r\nenveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath--and yet the officers heard\r\nit not. I talked more quickly--more vehemently; but the noise steadily\r\nincreased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with\r\nviolent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would\r\nthey not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if\r\nexcited to fury by the observations of the men--but the noise steadily\r\nincreased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed--I raved--I swore! I swung\r\nthe chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the\r\nboards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It\r\ngrew louder--louder--louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and\r\nsmiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!--no, no! They\r\nheard!--they suspected!--they knew!--they were making a mockery of my\r\nhorror!-this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than\r\nthis agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear\r\nthose hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die!\r\nand now--again!--hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!\r\n\r\n\u201cVillains!\u201d I shrieked, \u201cdissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear up\r\nthe planks! here, here!--It is the beating of his hideous heart!\u201d<\/pre>\n
 <\/p>\n
<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s so short (and in the public domain!) how could I abridge this magnificent malignancy? THE TELL-TALE HEART by Edgar Allan Poe TRUE!–nervous–very, very dreadfully<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[241,701,237,4,242],"tags":[1028,1014,1026,1027,1015,1025],"class_list":["post-2791","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-reviews","category-quote-of-the-day","category-reviews","category-sff","category-sff-book-reviews","tag-dismemberment","tag-edgar-allan-poe","tag-insanity","tag-murder","tag-tales-of-mystery-and-imagination","tag-the-tell-tale-heart"],"yoast_head":"\n03MAY2018 - Quote of the Day - Orion's Cold Fire<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/orionscoldfire.com\/index.php\/2018\/05\/03\/03may2018-quote-of-the-day\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"03MAY2018 - Quote of the Day - Orion's Cold Fire\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"It’s so short (and in the public domain!) how could I abridge this magnificent malignancy? 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