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 POEThose who gossip with you will gossip about you.
More Edgar Allan Poe Quotes
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The true genius shudders at incompleteness – imperfection – and usually prefers silence to saying the something which is not everything that should be said.
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There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.”
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The believer is happy. The doubter is wise.
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A million candles have burned themselves out. Still I read on.
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Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries.
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We loved with a love that was more than love.
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Lord, help my poor soul.
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I dread the events of the future, not in themselves but in their results.
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The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame.
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Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.
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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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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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Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
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Blood was its Avatar and its seal.
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Believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.
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There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion.
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Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.
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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?
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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.
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There is an eloquence in true enthusiasm.
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I have great faith in fools – self-confidence my friends will call it.
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There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.
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If a man deceives me once, shame on him; if he deceives me twice, shame on me.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
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.
EDGAR ALLAN POE -
Even for those to whom life and death are equal jests. There are some things that are still held in respect.
EDGAR ALLAN POE