Short Stories
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  • Tell-Tale Heart
    • Unreliable Narrators
    • Introduction
    • Easy Version
    • Tell-Tale Heart (1)
    • Tell-Tale Heart (2)
    • Tell-Tale Heart (3)
  • That Spot
    • Klondike Gold Rush
    • Introduction
    • That Spot (1)
    • That Spot (2)
    • That Spot (3)
    • That Spot (4)
    • That Spot (5)
    • That Spot (6)
  • Dread South
    • Introduction
    • Dread South (1)
    • Dread South (3)
    • Dread South (5)
    • Dread South (7)
    • Dread South (9)
  • Omega Ship
    • Introduction
    • In Media Res
    • Exposition
  • Home
  • Tell-Tale Heart
    • Unreliable Narrators
    • Introduction
    • Easy Version
    • Tell-Tale Heart (1)
    • Tell-Tale Heart (2)
    • Tell-Tale Heart (3)
  • That Spot
    • Klondike Gold Rush
    • Introduction
    • That Spot (1)
    • That Spot (2)
    • That Spot (3)
    • That Spot (4)
    • That Spot (5)
    • That Spot (6)
  • Dread South
    • Introduction
    • Dread South (1)
    • Dread South (3)
    • Dread South (5)
    • Dread South (7)
    • Dread South (9)
  • Omega Ship
    • Introduction
    • In Media Res
    • Exposition

The Tell-Tale Heart (1)

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​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.

hearken: to listen carefully

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​It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

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​Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded—with what caution—with what foresight—with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it —oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly —very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. 

dissimulation: hiding one's feelings; concealing the truth

profound: having great insight; intellectually deep

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​It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! Would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously—oh, so cautiously —cautiously (for the hinges creaked)—I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights —every night just at midnight—but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

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