The beating heart edgar allan poe

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. 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. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. 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.