Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

Even for those to whom life and death are equal jests. There are some things that are still held in respect.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

The eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of sorrow.

Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

I dread the events of the future, not in themselves but in their results.

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.

I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity.

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.