Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them. - Edgar Allan Poe
"Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them."
"Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them."
"The idea of God, infinity, or spirit stands for the possible attempt at an impossible conception."
"Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear."
"The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world."
"Lord help my poor soul."
"Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears."