Edgar Allan Poe Quotes - Page 2

How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born.

Sleep, those little slices of death - how I loathe them.

Even in the grave, all is not lost.

True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute.

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!

Lord help my poor soul.

And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

The idea of God, infinity, or spirit stands for the possible attempt at an impossible conception.

You call it hope - that fire of fire!
It is but agony of desire.

Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On! on!" - but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

Blood was its Avatar and its seal.

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

By a route obscure and lonely
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule -
From a wild, weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE, out of TIME.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but i feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

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

And here, in thought, to thee-
In thought that can alone,
Ascend thy empire and so be
A partner of thy throne,
By winged Fantasy,
My embassy is given,
Till secrecy shall knowledge be
In the environs of Heaven.