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: I suggest you leave, Mr. Winthrop. No? Then perish with us.
: You have murdered your sister, Mr. Usher, and I intend to see that you hang for it. Roderick Usher
: Arrange it quickly then. The old house crumbles.
: See to the crypt, will you?
: Did you know that I could hear the scratching of her fingernails on the casket lid?
] Be done. Philip Winthrop
: What? Roderick Usher
: I think I rave. Philip Winthrop
: You said be done.
: [as the house starts to rumble
] Don't you think that crack in the wall should be repaired? Roderick Usher
: For future generations of Ushers? Philip Winthrop
: For Madeline's safety. Philip Winthrop
: While I was riding here I noticed a singular lack of vegetation, is there something wrong with the soil? Roderick Usher
: The soil? Madeline Usher
: Roderick please! Roderick Usher
: [looking at Madeline
] As you wish.
: Madeline and I are like figures of fine glass. The slightest touch and we may shatter. Both of us suffer from a morbid acuteness of the senses. Mine is the worst for having existed the longer, but both of us are afflicted with it. Any sort of food more exotic then the most pallid mash is unendurable to my taste buds. Any sort of garment other then the softest, is agony to my flesh. My eyes are tormented by all but the faintest illumination. Odors assail me constantly, and as I've said, sounds of any degree whatsoever inspire me with terror.
: Is there no end to your horrors? Roderick Usher
: No. None whatever.
: Odors assail me constantly, and as I've said, sounds of any degree whatsoever inspire me with terror. Philip Winthrop
: That's why your servant asked me to remove my boots? Roderick Usher
: Yes... and even so I could hear you coming: every footstep, every rustle of your clothes. I could hear your horse approaching, hear the clatter of his hooves across the courtyard, your knock - the grating of the door bolt was like a sword-stroke to my ears... Roderick Usher
: [lowers his voice to a whisper
] I can hear the scratch of rat claws in the stone walls! Roderick Usher
: Mr. Winthrop, three-quarters of my family have fallen into madness, and in their madness have acquired a, a superhuman strength... so that it took the power of many to subdue them.
: Would you permit me to light a candle so that...? Roderick Usher
: I think you had better leave, Mr. Winthrop. Philip Winthrop
: I think you need some light in this house, Mr. Usher.