Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

Once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

I intend to put up with nothing that I can put down.[, August 8, 1839]

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness — imperfection — and usually prefers silence to saying the something which is not everything that should be said.

Twas noontide of summer,And mid-time of night;And stars, in their orbits,Shone pale, thro' the lightOf the brighter, cold moon,'Mid planets her slaves,Herself in the Heavens,Her beam on the waves.I ga...

Ceux qui revent eveilles ont conscience de 1000 choses qui echapent a ceux qui ne revent qu'endormis.

It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.

To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.

So resolute is the world to despise anything which carries with it an air of simplicity.

I have great faith in fools - self-confidence my friends will call it.

Every moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-lightWith the breath from their pale faces

A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to accommodate his incidents; but having conceived, with deliberate care, a certain unique or single effec...

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.

I saw thee once - only once - years ago:I must not say how many - but not many.It was a July midnight; and from outA full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,Sought a precipitate pathway up...

Misery is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch, --as distinct too, yet as intimately blended...

A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

That single thought is enough. The impulse increases to a wish, the wish to a desire, the desire to an uncontrollable longing, and the longing (to the deep regret and mortification of the speaker, and...

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