Quotes by Edgar Allan Poe
Of a water that flows, With a lullaby sound, From a spring but a very few Feet under ground -- From a cavern not very far Down under ground.
The writer who neglects punctuation, or mispunctuates, is liable to be misunderstood for the want of merely a comma, it often occurs that an axiom appears a paradox, or that a sarcasm is converted into a sermonoid.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.
As I rapidly made the mesmeric passes, amid ejaculations of "dead! dead!" absolutely bursting from the tongue and not from the lips of the suf...
After reading all that has been written, and after thinking all that can be thought, on the topics of God and the soul, the man who has a right to say that he thinks at all, will find himself face to face with the conclusion that, on these topics, the most profound thought is that which can be the least easily distinguished from the most superficial sentiment.
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone...
Sleep. Those little slices of Death. How I loathe them.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shor...
And we passed to the end of a vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb—...
"Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise. "But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!...
Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!—a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;...
To see distinctly the machinery—the wheels and pinions—of any work of Art is, unquestionably, of itself, a pleasure, but one which we are ...
The waves have now a redder glow— The hours are breathing faint and low—...
As a viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass..., I was so impressed with a sense of vague awe at my appearance ... that I was seized with...
Semi-Saracenic architecture, sustaining itself as if by miracle in mid air; glittering in the red sunlight with a hundred oriels, minarets, an...
The object, Truth, or the satisfaction of the intellect, and the object, Passion, or the excitement of the heart, are, although attainable, to a certain extent, in poetry, far more readily attainable in prose.
If I venture to displace ... the microscopical speck of dust... on the point of my finger,... I have done a deed which shakes the Moon in her ...
She was a child and I was a child, In this kingdom by the sea,...
Nor will this overwhelming tendency to do wrong for wrong's sake, admit of analysis, or resolution into ulterior elements. It is a radical, a ...
Nor had I erred in my calculations—nor had I endured in vain. I at length felt that I was free.
Far in the forest, dim and old, For her may some tall vault unfold—
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?
A lunatic may be
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor....
