So lovely was the loneliness of a wild lake.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.

The rain came down upon my head unshelter'd. And the wind rendered me mad and deaf and blind.

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

Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.

No one should brave the underworld alone.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence - whether much that is glorious - whether all that is profound - does not spring from disease of thought - from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.

I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.

I have great faith in fools self-confidence my friends will call it.