短篇小说 | An Idle Fellow

2020年1月15日

I am tired. At the end of these years I am very tired. I have been studying in books the languages of the living and those we call dead.

短篇小说 | Ligeia

2020年1月14日

I Cannot, for my soul, remember how, when, or even precisely where, I first became acquainted with the lady Ligeia. Long years have since elapsed, and my memory is feeble through much suffering.

短篇小说 | An Egyptian Cigarette

2020年1月14日

MY friend, the Architect, who is something of a traveller, was showing us various curios which he had gathered during a visit to the Orient.

短篇小说 | Landor's Cottage

2020年1月13日

DURING A pedestrian trip last summer, through one or two of the river counties of New York, I found myself, as the day declined, somewhat embarrassed about the road I was pursuing.

短篇小说 | After Twenty Years

2020年1月13日

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and not for show, for spectators were few.

短篇小说 | A Morning Walk

2020年1月13日

Archibald had been up many hours. He had breakfasted, and now he was taking a morning stroll along the village street, which was little other than a high ledge cut into the mountain-side.

短篇小说 | A Mental Suggestion

2020年1月12日

Graham looked up at the little winking stars and they looked down at him. He bowed in acknowledgement to the supremacy of the moving power which is love; which is life.