The Tell-Tale Heart The Narrator Quotes

Obsession forces the narrator's version of reality into a narrow tube. If the narrator was thinking about inventing a cure for cancer or something, this tunnel vision might be a good thing. Here, his version of reality is dangerous to himself and others.

The narrator attributes almost godlike power to the eye, as indicated by the capital letters. Perhaps he thinks the old man is inhabited by a horrible spirit.

This is an interesting passage because the narrator speaks for the old man. Throughout the eighth night the narrator imagines the old man's feelings, using his own experience as kind of a template, in a fit of pre-murder empathy.

Earlier, he refers to this condition as a "disease" – the implication being that it stems from his body rather than from his mind. Comments like these provoke questions about how the body and mind influence each other, and about the versions of reality of the people they belong to.

We know that feeling, like the way the old nerves clang after that seventh cup of coffee. The narrator obviously doesn't think nervousness is a component of madness. It also seems separate from his "disease."

It's quite possible he was right, though probably not for the reasons he gives. His creepiness probably shows through more than he knows. The fact that there are three of them suggests they were already really suspicious before they got there.

In some ways, the story is told rather calmly, though "healthily" is a bit of a stretch. There is control in the narrative. This control is maintained in part because the narrator doesn't tell "the whole story," but select bits and pieces of it.

Go ahead. Snicker. Get it out of your system. We had to put these here because it has the word "cunningly" in it. This line is so silly it borders on hilarious. Good old comic relief. Clever Poe.

Such sad lines. His idea of being cunning seems so pathetic, and so creepy and destructive. We also wonder why the narrator is so sure the man doesn't suspect him. Is it because of the narrator's cunning, or the old man's lack of it?

What exactly does the narrator use to do the dismembering? He makes no mention of disposing of the cutting implement. Is he being cunning, or did he just forget to mention it?

Has the narrator outsmarted the police officers, or are they hanging out with the narrator because they suspect him?

If the old man leaves his door unlocked, it means he trusts the narrator, or (if he's bedridden) he might not have a choice. Either way, this is why we don't go to sleep until well after midnight.

We wonder if he stays up all night waiting by the door, or if he takes a break. It's not really clear. What a wretched, isolated picture of home.

Home can be an uncomfortable place when we fear our neighbors, or when we have suspicious characters like the narrator living near by. This common anxiety is brought to extremes in this story, echoing what we sometimes see if real life.

Would you call the police over one shriek? Would it alone be enough to get the police thinking foul play? We wonder what the neighbors and the police know that the narrator doesn't tell us.

The fact that the man is old, and probably near death anyway, makes this bitterly ironic. To die is one thing, but to grow old, to spend the final years hated and despised is another.

This is a curiously structured sentence. At first it seems the narrator is simply personifying death. He's also referring to himself as Death, with a capital D – the nemesis of the "Evil Eye." The narrator is the stalker, and his shadow is black (because there is no light; this is before the opening of the lamp).

The word "stone" is repeated a third time, a few sentences later, which suggests that the word is important. This makes us think of the Medusa myth. When a person looks at Medusa and she looks back, or vice versa, the person turns to stone. This is just the kind of thing that would appeal to our narrator.

We don't bring this up to be gross, but to point out that this violent image is perhaps more disturbing than the image of the man smashed by the bed. For one thing, it's much more concrete and easy to visualize. It's also more invasively violent, even though the man is (we hope) already dead for this process.

This strange time management technique suggests extreme loneliness. We learn later that the narrator has problems sleeping at night (and probably during the day). This moment is when we first begin to notice there's something funny going on with time.