Edgar Allan Poe Quotes
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The happiest day - the happiest hourMy sear'd and blighted heart hath known,The highest hope of pride and power,I feel hath flown.
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I attacked with great resolution the editorial matter, and, reading it from beginning to end without understanding a syllable, conceived the possibility of its being Chinese, and so re-read it from the end to the beginning, but with no more satisfactory result.
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Man is an animal that diddles, and there is no animal that diddles but man.
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All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.
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And when, amid no earthly moans,Down, down that town shall settle hence,Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,Shall do it reverence.
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It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.
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For the love of God Montresor!
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I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.
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How many good books suffer neglect through the inefficiency of their beginnings!
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To observe attentively is to remember distinctly.
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The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
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Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
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In beauty of face no maiden ever equaled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - an airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly divine than the fantasies which hovered about the slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos.
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Lord, help my poor soul.
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In one case out of a hundred a point is excessively discussed because it is obscure; in the ninety-nine remaining it is obscure because it is excessively discussed.
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Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence.
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The true genius shudders at incompleteness - and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.
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If I could dwellWhere IsrafelHath dwelt, and he where I,He might not sing so wildly wellA mortal melody,While a bolder note than this might swellFrom my lyre within the sky.
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Come! let the burial rite be read - the funeral song be sung! - An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young - A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
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In criticism I will be bold, and as sternly, absolutely just with friend and foe. From this purpose nothing shall turn me.
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Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'
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O, human love! thou spirit given,On Earth, of all we hope in Heaven!
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When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straight jacket.
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To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.