Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

Edgar Allan Poe

Biography

Type: Writer

Born: January 19, 1809 Boston, Massachusetts, Unit

Died: October 7, 1849, Baltimore, Maryland, Unit

American writer, critic and editor Edgar Allan Poe is famous for his tales and poems of horror and mystery, including "The Raven" and "The Fall of the House of Usher". Poe is remembered as one of the first American writers to become a major figure in world literature.

Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

We loved with a love that was more than love.. Edgar Allan Poe
We loved with a love that was more than love.

The best things in life make you sweaty.. Edgar Allan Poe
The best things in life make you sweaty.

And all I loved, I loved alone.. Edgar Allan Poe
And all I loved, I loved alone.

From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others
From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone.

I have great faith in fools - self-confidence my friends will call it.. Edgar Allan Poe
I have great faith in fools - self-confidence my friends will call it.

Invisible things are the only realities.. Edgar Allan Poe
Invisible things are the only realities.

Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger,
Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger, portion of truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant.

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.. Edgar
The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it.. Edgar
A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it.

Depend upon it, after all, Thomas, Literature is the most noble of professions. In fact, it
Depend upon it, after all, Thomas, Literature is the most noble of professions. In fact, it is about the only one fit for a man. For my own part, there is no seducing me from the path.

I have no words - alas! - to tell The loveliness of loving well!. Edgar Allan
I have no words - alas! - to tell
The loveliness of loving well!

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December And each separate dying ember wrought
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore.

Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health.. Edgar Allan Poe
Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health.

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say
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?

It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look
It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.

Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no
Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgement, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such?

Philosophers have often held dispute As to the seat of thought in man and brute For
Philosophers have often held dispute
As to the seat of thought in man and brute
For that the power of thought attends the latter
My friend, thy beau, hath made a settled matter,
And spite of dogmas current in all ages,
One settled fact is better than ten sages. (O,Tempora! O,Mores!)

If we cannot comprehend God in his visible works, how then in his inconceivable thoughts, that
If we cannot comprehend God in his visible works, how then in his inconceivable thoughts, that call the works into being?

I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable
I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active - not more happy - nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago.

It is a happiness to wonder; - it is a happiness to dream.. Edgar Allan Poe
It is a happiness to wonder; - it is a happiness to dream.

How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the
How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born.

Sleep, those little slices of death - how I loathe them.. Edgar Allan Poe
Sleep, those little slices of death - how I loathe them.

Even in the grave, all is not lost.. Edgar Allan Poe
Even in the grave, all is not lost.

True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute.

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!

Lord help my poor soul.

And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

The idea of God, infinity, or spirit stands for the possible attempt at an impossible conception..
The idea of God, infinity, or spirit stands for the possible attempt at an impossible conception.

You call it hope - that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire.. Edgar
You call it hope - that fire of fire!
It is but agony of desire.

Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast!
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On! on!" - but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.. Edgar Allan Poe
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

Blood was its Avatar and its seal.. Edgar Allan Poe
Blood was its Avatar and its seal.

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.. Edgar
I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.

By a route obscure and lonely Haunted by ill angels only, Where an eidolon, named NIGHT,
By a route obscure and lonely
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule -
From a wild, weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE, out of TIME.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but i feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

I have been happy, though in a dream.
I have been happy-and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife

And here, in thought, to thee-
In thought that can alone,
Ascend thy empire and so be
A partner of thy throne,
By winged Fantasy,
My embassy is given,
Till secrecy shall knowledge be
In the environs of Heaven.

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all.

Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music, without the idea, is simply music; the idea, without the music, is prose, from its very definitiveness.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.

Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.

I intend to put up with nothing that I can put down."

[Letter to J. Beauchamp Jones, August 8, 1839]

There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.

Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

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.

When, indeed, men speak of Beauty, they mean, precisely, not a quality, as is supposed, but an effect - they refer, in short, just to that intense and pure elevation of soul - not of intellect, or of heart.

That pleasure which is at once the most pure, the most elevating and the most intense, is derived, I maintain, from the contemplation of the beautiful.

I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.. Edgar Allan Poe
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Yet mad I am not...and very surely do I not dream.

The ninety and nine are with dreams, content, but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.

Chi sogna di giorno conosce molte cose che sfuggono a chi sogna solo di notte.

Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.

You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not about money-finders.

With me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion; and the passions should be held in reverence: they must not - they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commendations, of mankind.

Ah, not in knowledge is happiness, but in the acquisition of knowledge! In forever knowing, we are forever blessed; but to know all, were the curse of a fiend.

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