Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

There are few cases in which mere popularity should be considered a proper test of merit; but the case of read more

There are few cases in which mere popularity should be considered a proper test of merit; but the case of song-writing is, I think, one of the few.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy naiad airs have read more

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

And still the Raven, never flitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of read more

And still 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.

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned read more

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all, and thus would have been at the mercy of the Prefect

Hear the sledges with the bells,
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
read more

Hear the sledges with the bells,
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night,
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the Heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
From the jingling and the tingling of the bells.

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute which goes directly to the heart of him read more

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere man

The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.

The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.

Filled with mingled cream and amber I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chambers of read more

Filled with mingled cream and amber I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chambers of my brain -- Quaintest thoughts -- queerest fancies Come to life and fade away; Who cares how time advances? I am drinking ale today.

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

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