Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries.
EDGAR ALLAN POEWhere the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
More Edgar Allan Poe Quotes
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There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.
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The world is a great ocean, upon which we encounter more tempestuous storms than calms.
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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.
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Man’s real life is happy, chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.
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A million candles have burned themselves out. Still I read on.
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Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.
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Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
The true genius shudders at incompleteness – and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Imperceptibly the love of these discords grew upon me as my love of music grew stronger.
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Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day; or the agonies which are have their origins in ecstasies which might have been.
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In efforts to soar above our nature, we invariably fall below it.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Those who gossip with you will gossip about you.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Even for those to whom life and death are equal jests. There are some things that are still held in respect.
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Blood was its Avatar and its seal.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths!
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
That which you mistake for madness is but an overacuteness of the senses.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.
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The believer is happy. The doubter is wise.
EDGAR ALLAN POE