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Oh, how we loathe to lose control but willingly accept the fate conjured by stupor. What loathing have we toward our existence that to drown our intellect with bottles of alcohol is bliss? Maybe it is true, then. That the more we know and understand, the more we get death closer to us.
Poe
"Avaunt! - Avaunt! to friends from fiends the indignant ghost is riven- From Hell unto a high estate within the utmost Heaven- From moan and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven: - Let no bell toll, then, lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth- Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth!- And I- tonight my heart is light: - no dirge will I upraise, but waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!"
E.A Poe - Lenore
"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and ye hated her for her pride; and when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her- that she died:- how shall the ritual then be read?- the requiem how be sung. By you- by yours, the evil eye- by yours, the slanderous tongue. That did to death the innocence that died and died so young?"
Edgar Allan Poe - Lenore
Jesus, look at all the work I did today for the Poe Assignment and that's not even half of it.
I'm choosing the Black Cat story for this Visual Narrative assignment and damn, I'm pretty sure I broke my drawing hand for a bit