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.
EDGAR ALLAN POEAll religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.
More Edgar Allan Poe Quotes
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Even in the grave, all is not lost.
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I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.
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Yet mad I am not and very surely do I not dream.
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I intend to put up with nothing that I can put down.
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I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.
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Lord, help my poor soul.
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Art is to look at not to criticize.
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If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.
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I dread the events of the future, not in themselves but in their results.
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And so being young and dipped in folly I fell in love with melancholy.
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That man is not truly brave who is afraid either to seem or to be, when it suits him, a coward.
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The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.
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As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all.
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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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Stupidity is a talent for misconception.
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Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
The past is a pebble in my shoe.
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Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
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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Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.”
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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And I fell violently on my face.
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I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.
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Even for those to whom life and death are equal jests. There are some things that are still held in respect.
EDGAR ALLAN POE