Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

That man is not truly brave who is afraid either to seem or to be, when it suits him, a coward.

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

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

To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations - such is a pleasure beyond compare.

My personal hobbies are reading, listening to music, and silence.

At night I sit in my chamber and read the bible. Far in the distance roars the sea. Then I lie down and think for a long time about the calm and pale man from …