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O God, let me stay with the known, and be weary of it: I am content. I thirsted for the unknown: the thirst is gone. The sense of suffocation increases: my lamp goes out with a horrible stench: I make a great effort, and snatch at the bell again. The little scullery-maid is asleep on a bench: she never answers the bell it does not wake her. Perry is alarmed at last, and is gone out after her. My housekeeper will have rushed out of the house in a fury, two hours before, hoping that Perry will believe she has gone to drown herself. My two servants are lovers, and will have quarrelled. I shall only have time to reach the bell, and pull it violently, before the sense of suffocation will come. Just as I am watching a tongue of blue flame rising in the fire, and my lamp is burning low, the horrible contraction will begin at my chest. Just a month from this day, on September 20, 1850, I shall be sitting in this chair, in this study, at ten o'clock at night, longing to die, weary of incessant insight and foresight, without delusions and without hope.

For I foresee when I shall die, and everything that will happen in my last moments. If it were to be otherwise-if I were to live on to the age most men desire and provide for-I should for once have known whether the miseries of delusive expectation can outweigh the miseries of true provision. Unless, then, I am cursed with an exceptional physical constitution, as I am cursed with an exceptional mental character, I shall not much longer groan under the wearisome burthen of this earthly existence. I have lately been subject to attacks of angina pectoris and in the ordinary course of things, my physician tells me, I may fairly hope that my life will not be protracted many months.

Give me no light, great Heaven, but such as turns The Repairer of Reputations by Robert W Chambers The Cask of Amontillardo by Edgar Allan PoeĪn Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge by Ambrose Bierce The Yellow Wall Paper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

I did say they were unreliable.Īmong their untrustworthy ranks are J M Barrie, George Eliot, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Nikolai Gogol, O Henry and Edgar Allan Poe. However, we still enjoy the journey sometimes they make it so much fun there may be a happy ending. They take us into literary mazes turn characters we accept into those we mistrust, situations we know into something we can now only doubt. But sometimes these friends, these guardians of our trust play games, they betray our literary friendship with lines on which we can’t rely. Our journey through the arc and pages of a book is often in the safe and knowing words of a narrator. Short Stories with an Unreliable Narrator

Rainbow six extraction turn off narrator