I had so worked upon my imagination as really to believe that about the whole mansion and domain there hung an atmosphere peculiar to themselves and their immediate vicinity -- an atmosphere which had no affinity with the air of heaven, but which had reeked up from the decayed trees, and the gray wall, and the silent tarn -- a pestilent and mystic vapor. Which observation can be made about the narrator?
He seems unsettled and paranoid.
He seems sensitive and spiritual.
He seems creative and fanciful.
He seems frustrated and angry.