Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

It is evident that we are hurrying onward to some exciting knowledge—some never-to-be-imparted secre...

Ah, Death, the spectre which sate at all feasts! How often, Monos, did we lose ourselves in speculat...

Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough." "T...

That pleasure which is at once the most pure, the most elevating and the most intense, is derived, I...

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

A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my soul.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness — imperfection — and usually prefers silence to saying th...

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

Invisible things are the only realities.

In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very...

For eyes we have no models in the remotely antique.

In beauty of face no maiden ever equaled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - an airy and sp...

This apartment, which you no doubt profanely suppose to be the shop of Will Wimble the undertaker --...

From the dim regions beyond the mountains at the upper end of our encircled domain, there crept out ...

Men have called me mad; but the question is not settled whether madness is or is not the loftiest in...

I AM come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion. Men have called me mad; but the q...

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

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just ...

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume...

I have no words — alas! — to tellThe loveliness of loving well!

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

Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftie...

If Pierre Bon-Bon had his failings--and what great man has not a thousand?--if Pierre Bon-Bon, I say...

How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness?—from the covenant of peace a simil...

To muse for long unwearied hours with my attention riveted to some frivolous device upon the margin,...

In the strange anomaly of my existence, feelings with me had never been of the heart, and my passion...

I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea,But we loved with a love that was more...

From childhood's hour I have not beenAs others were - I have not seenAs others saw - I could not bri...

From childhood's hour I have not beenAs others were; I have not seenAs others saw; I could not bring...

And here, in thought, to thee-In thought that can alone, Ascend thy empire and so be A partner of th...

I have been happy, though in a dream.I have been happy-and I love the theme:Dreams! in their vivid c...

I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect...

To be thoroughly conversant with Man’s heart, is to take our final lesson in the iron-clasped volume...

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to acc...

The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth ma...

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams n...

Of puns it has been said that those most dislike who are least able to utter them.

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

And thus, as a closer and still closer intimacy admitted me more unreservedly into recesses if his s...

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

I have great faith in fools self-confidence my friends call it.

From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not a...

Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what t...

That single thought is enough. The impulse increases to a wish, the wish to a desire, the desire to ...

The ninety and nine are with dreams, content, but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth m...

I have no faith in human perfectability. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect...

Every moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-lightWith the breath from ...

By a route obscure and lonelyHaunted by ill angels only,Where an eidolon, named NIGHT,On a black thr...

The eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of sorrow.

You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. 

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

A man's grammar, like Caesar's wife, should not only be pure, but above suspicion of impurity.

Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.

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

Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger portio...

I Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! ...

The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.

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

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

In criticism, I will be bold, and as sternly, absolutely just with friend and foe. From this purpose...

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

And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tri...

Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no ...

There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wri...

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the...

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

I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust within the rock.

Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.

With me poetry has not been a purpose but a passion.

If we cannot comprehend God in his visible works, how then in his inconceivable thoughts, that call ...

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

Be nothing which thou art not

Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftie...

And thus when by Poetry, or when by Music, the most entrancing of the poetic moods, we find ourselve...

Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music, without the idea, is simply music; t...

In death - no! even in the grave all is not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing fro...

Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger, porti...

Let him talk," said Dupin, who had not thought it necessary to reply. "Let him discourse; it will ea...

Coincidences, in general, are great stumbling-blocks in the way of that class of thinkers who have b...

There are few persons who have not, at some period of their lives, amused themselves in retracing th...

Twas noontide of summer,And mid-time of night;And stars, in their orbits,Shone pale, thro' the light...

But, for myself, the Earth’s records had taught me to look for widest ruin as the price of highest c...

I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at ...

Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impul...

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

I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.

The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at onc...

The teeth!—the teeth!—they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me;...

To conceive the horror of my sensations is, I presume, utterly impossible; yet a curiosity to penetr...

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume ...

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censerSwung by Seraphim whose footfall...

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic...

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

The principle of vis inertiae (...) seems to be identical in physics and metaphysics. It is not more...

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

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

It all depends on the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber. - Daupin

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

Misery is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rai...