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Edgar Allan Poe Quote - And all I loved, I loved alone.

And all I loved, I loved alone.

Edgar Allan Poe

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The true genius shudders at incompleteness – and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.
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I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
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In efforts to soar above our nature, we invariably fall below it.
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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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If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry.
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A million candles have burned themselves out. Still I read on.
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False hope is nicer than no hope at all.
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I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.
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The past is a pebble in my shoe.
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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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All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
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The eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of sorrow.
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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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Lord, help my poor soul.
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It is a happiness to wonder; it is a happiness to dream.
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