A random thought... I was driving earlier and a track from "Tales of Mystery and Imagination" by the Alan Parsons Project came up in the shuffle. Poe is one of my favourite authors, and on the album, Orson Welles reads this creepy passage, and his voice and delivery are perfect. I attach no special meaning to it; I just find it interesting.

"Shadows of shadows passing... It is now 1831, and as always, I am absorbed with a delicate thought. It is how poetry has indefinite sensations, to which end, music is an essential, since the comprehension of sweet sound is our most indefinite conception. Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry. Music without the idea is simply music. Without music or an intriguing idea, color becomes pallor, man becomes carcass, home becomes catacomb, and the dead are but for a moment motionless."