A personal diary keeping people abreast of what I am working on writing-wise.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

IT IS THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART!

TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.

Current Soundtrack: Timebox, "Beggin'"

Current Mood: losing it

golightly@confessions123.com * The Website * Live Journal Syndication



[to leave comments, click on the time-stamp below, then scroll down on the new page] – All text (c) 2005 Jamie S. Rich

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Nice. Poe is always good when you're in a snit.

Hope you feel better.

neal s said...

I'd like to think I inspired you.

Jamie S. Rich said...

I wasn't yet caught up with your blog, Willie. It's funny, because I had searched for some writers' graves before deciding on this quote. Fitzgerald's grave was great. http://www.springlake-earth.org/Siren/02feb00/HS/Brooke/grave.jpg

neal s said...

He spent some time in Baltimore, as well. There's actually a surprising amount of literary tradition here. That grave is pretty sweet - the "so we beat on" quote is, in my opinion, the greatest single sentence ever written.