Quotes from Edgar Allan Poe

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.

This maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

I have no faith in human perfectability. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active - not more happy - nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago.

the truth is, I am heartily sick of this life & of the nineteenth century in general. (I am convinced that every thing is going wrong.)

..bear in mind that, in general, it is the object of our newspapers rather to create a sensation-to make a point-than to further the cause of truth." Dupin in "The Mystery of Marie Roget

He must be theory-mad beyond redemption who ... shall ... persist in attempting to reconcile the obstinate oils and waters of Poetry and Truth.

I am actuated by an ambition which I believe to be an honourable one — the ambition of serving the great cause of truth, while endeavouring to forward the literature of the country.

Alas! for that accursed time They bore thee o'er the billow, From love to titled age and crime, And an unholy pillow! From me, and from our misty clime, Where weeps the silver willow!

Yes," I said, "for the love of God!

I am a writer. Therefore. I am not sane.

Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.

I have been happy, though in a dream. I have been happy-and I love the theme: Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife

That man is not truly brave who is afraid either to seem or to be, when it suits him, a coward.

It will be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than analytic.

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

Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.

Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.

And the Raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming Of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming Throws his shadow on the floor, And my soul from out that shadow, That lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted - nevermore.

The glory that was Greece.

In criticism I will be bold, and as sternly, absolutely just with friend and foe. From this purpose nothing shall turn me.

On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, they classic face, Thy naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.

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

Of puns it has been said that those most dislike who are least able to utter them.