choalith

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain: but once concieved, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture- a pale blue eye, with a film over it. 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.
A passage from " The Tell-Tale heart" by Edgar Allan Poe.