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Edgar Allan Poe Quote - We had always dwelled together, beneath a tropical sun, in the Valley of the Many Colored Grass.

We had always dwelled together, beneath a tropical sun, in the Valley of the Many Colored Grass.

Edgar Allan Poe

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Color Dwell Grass Love Sun Togetherness Valley

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries.
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Book Indeed Luxury One Liner
Believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.
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Advice Believe Hear See Truth
Blood was its Avatar and its seal.
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Blood
Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence.
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Intelligence Madness Science Teaching
Sleep, those little slices of death – how I loathe them.
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Death Sleep Slice
Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Fancy Insane Mad Wise
To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Elevate Necessary One Liner Poetry Soul
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 POE

Content Dreams Hope Man World
Those who gossip with you will gossip about you.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Duality Gossip Human Nature Mask
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Atmosphere Broken Heart Depression Feeling One Liner Sorror
The eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of sorrow.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Eyes Imagination Mirror Multiply Shatter Sorrow
I dread the events of the future, not in themselves but in their results.
EDGAR ALLAN POE

Event Future Result
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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Dare Darkness Doubt Dreams Fear Mortal Wonder
Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.
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Death Die Poem Poetry Reading
That which you mistake for madness is but an overacuteness of the senses.
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Madness Mistake Sense
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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Anguish Bliss Memories Past

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