Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

Quotes tagged as "edgar-allan-poe" (showing 1-30 of 57)
Neil Gaiman
“Hey," said Shadow. "Huginn or Muninn, or whoever you are."
The bird turned, head tipped, suspiciously, on one side, and it stared at him with bright eyes.
"Say 'Nevermore,'" said Shadow.
"Fuck you," said the raven.”
Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Edgar Allan Poe
“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence.”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.”
Edgar Allan Poe, Poems

Edgar Allan Poe
“I saw thee once - only once - years ago:
I must not say how many - but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared stir, unless on tiptoe -
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death -
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in the parterre, enchanted
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell upon the upturn'd faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow!

Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight -
Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
No footsteps stirred: the hated world all slept,
Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! - oh, G**!
How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked -
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind the garden was enchanted!)
The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
The happy flowers and the repining trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All - all expired save thee - save less than thou:
Save only divine light in thine eyes -
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them - they were the world to me.
I saw but them - saw only them for hours -
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition! yet how deep -
How fathomless a capacity for love!
But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained.
They would not go - they never yet have gone.
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since.
They follow me - they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers - yet I their slave.
Their office is to illumine and enkindle -
My duty, to be saved by their bright fire,
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope,)
And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still - two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven and Other Poems

Edgar Allan Poe
“To Helen

I saw thee once-once only-years ago;
I must not say how many-but not many.
It was a july midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber
Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe-
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light
Thier odorous souls in an ecstatic death-
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted by thee, by the poetry of thy prescence.

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses
And on thine own, upturn'd-alas, in sorrow!

Was it not Fate that, on this july midnight-
Was it not Fate (whose name is also sorrow)
That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
No footstep stirred; the hated world all slept,
Save only thee and me. (Oh Heaven- oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two worlds!)
Save only thee and me. I paused- I looked-
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)

The pearly lustre of the moon went out;
The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
The happy flowers and the repining trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All- all expired save thee- save less than thou:
Save only the divine light in thine eyes-
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them- they were the world to me.
I saw but them- saw only them for hours-
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe! yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition!yet how deep-
How fathomless a capacity for love!

But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
Into western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained.
They would not go- they never yet have gone.
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since.

They follow me- they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers- yet I thier slave
Thier office is to illumine and enkindle-
My duty, to be saved by thier bright light,
And purified in thier electric fire,
And sanctified in thier Elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
And are far up in heaven- the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still- two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“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”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“The best chess-player in Christendom may be little more than the best player of chess; but proficiency in whist implies capacity for success in all those more important undertakings where mind struggles with mind.”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold–too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Complete Poetry

Edgar Allan Poe
“From the dim regions beyond the mountains at the upper end of our encircled domain, there crept out a narrow and deep river, brighter than all save the eyes of Eleonora; and, winding stealthily about in mazy courses, it passed away, at length, through a shadowy gorge, among hills still dimmer than those whence it had issued. We called it the "River of Silence"; for there seemed to be a hushing influence in its flow. No murmur arose from its bed, and so gently it wandered along, that the pearly pebbles upon which we loved to gaze, far down within its bosom, stirred not at all, but lay in a motionless content, each in its own old station, shining on gloriously forever.”
Edgar Allan Poe, Eleonora

Henry N. Beard
The End of the Raven

"On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting
I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,
Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.
'Raven's very tasty,' thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor.
'There is nothing I like more.'

[...]

Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered
In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents' worth -- 'Nevermore.'
While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh, so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly leapt up, pouncing on the feathered bore.
Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore --
Only this and not much more.”
Henry N. Beard, Poetry for Cats: The Definitive Anthology of Distinguished Feline Verse

Edgar Allan Poe
“..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”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Mystery of Marie Rogêt

Edgar Allan Poe
“THOU wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine:
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.

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.

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
No more—no more—no more—
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar.

And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy gray eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams—
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.”
Edgar Allan Poe

Henry James
“An enthusiasm for Poe is the mark of a decidedly primitive stage of reflection. Baudelaire thought him a profound philosopher... Poe was much the greater charlatan of the two, as well as the greater genius.”
Henry James, French Poets and Novelists

Edgar Allan Poe
“At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon.”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—”
Edgar Allan Poe, Annabel Lee

Edgar Allan Poe
“Quoth the raven nevermore.”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

Edgar Allan Poe
“A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my soul.”
Edgar Allan Poe, Ms. Found in a Bottle

Daniel Stashower
“I have not only labored solely for the benefit of others (receiving for myself a miserable pittance), but have been forced to model my thoughts at the will of men whose imbecility was evident to all but themselves"
— Edgar Allan Poe”
Daniel Stashower, The Beautiful Cigar Girl: Mary Rogers, Edgar Allan Poe, and the Invention of Murder

Steen Langstrup
“It’s a case of mistaken identity. It’s one big mistake. You weren’t even in the country when it happened.”

Maja in the short story 'Metro' by Steen Langstrup”
Steen Langstrup, Metro

Edgar Allan Poe
“Hay pocas situaciones decisivas para el hombre en que no le inspire un profundo interés su propia conversación, interés que crece minuto a minuto con la fragilidad del lazo que sostiene nuestra existencia; pero entonces el carácter silencioso, positivo, riguroso de la tarea que me habían impuesto, tan diferente a la de los tumultuosos peligros de la tempestad o de los horrores progresivos del hambre, me hizo reflexionar sobre las pocas probabilidades que tenía de escapar de la más espantosa de las muertes, de una muerte de horrible utilidad, y cada partícula de la energía que por tanto tiempo me había sostenido huía entonces como una pluma arrebatada por el viento, dejándome impotente a merced del más abyecto y lastimoso terror.”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket and Related Tales

Chris Mentillo
“I am about to break into a dimension of the impossible. To enter this realm., I must set my mind (hypnotize myself) free from the earthly fetters that bind it. If the events to witness are unbelievable, it is only because my imagination is chained. So I now sit back, relax, and believe...so that I may cross the brink of time and space...into that land we sometimes visit in our dreams -- my horrific forsaken dreams.”
Chris Mentillo, Obliterated: Everything is About To Change

Edgar Allan Poe
“How had I deserved to be so blessed by such confessions? —how had I deserved to be so cursed with the removal of my beloved in the hour of her making them, But upon this subject I cannot bear to dilate.”
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) Sentia una gran impaciencia por hacer uso de mis ojos, pero no me atrevía. Tenía miedo de la primera mirada sobre las cosas que me rodeaban. No es que me aterrorizara contemplar cosas horribles, sino que me aterraba la idea de no ver nada (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Pit and the Pendulum

Edgar Allan Poe
“Cuando estaba por apoyar de nuevo la cabeza, sentí brillar en mi espíritu algo que no sabría definir mejor sino diciendo que era la mitad incompleta de la idea de libertad que ya he expuesto, y de la que sólo una parte, una sola mitad, vagamente, había flotado en mi espíritu (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Pit and the Pendulum

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) Me vi obligado a incurrir en la insatisfactoria conclusión de que mientras hay, fuera de toda duda, combinaciones de simplísimos objetos naturales que tienen el poder de afectarnos así, el análisis de este poder se encuentra aún entre las consideraciones que están más allá de nuestro alcance (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher

Edgar Allan Poe
“Moriré -dijo-, tengo que morir de esta deplorable locura. Así, así y no de otro modo. Temo los sucesos del futuro, no por sí mismos, sino por sus resultados. Me estremezco pensando en cualquier incidente, hasta el más trivial, que pueda actuar sobre esta intolerable agitación. En realidad, no aborrezco el peligro, salvo en su efecto absoluto: el terror. En este desaliento, en esta lamentable condición, siento que tarde o temprano llegará el momento en que deba abandonar, a la vez, la vida y la razón, en alguna lucha con el horroroso fantasma: el miedo.”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) Las palabras no alcanzan para dar una idea de la feroz resistencia que opuso a la Sombra. Gemí de angustia ante el lamentable espectáculo. Yo hubiera querido calmar, hubiera querido razonar; pero en la intensidad de su salvaje deseo de vivir -vivir, sólo vivir- todo consuelo y toda razón habrían sido el colmo de la locura. Sin embargo, hasta el último momento, en las convulciones más violentas de su espíritu indómito, no se conmivió la placidez exterior de su actitud (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, Ligeia

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) De todas las mujeres que he conocido, la exteriormente tranquila, la siempre plácida Ligeia era presa, con más violencia que nadie, de los tumultosos buitres de la dura pasión (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, Ligeia

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) Ahora mi espíritu ardía pleno y libre, con más intensidad que el suyo. En la excitación de mis sueños de opio (porque me hallaba habitualmente encadenado por los grilletes de la droga) gritaba su nombre, en el silencio de la noche o durante el día, en los sombreados retiros de los valles; como si con ese salvaje vehemencia, con la solemne pasión, con el fuego devorador de mi deseo por la desaparecida, pudiera restituirla a la senda que había abandonado, ¡ah!, ¿era posible que fuese para siempre?, en la tierra.”
Edgar Allan Poe, Ligeia

Edgar Allan Poe
“(...) El desenfreno de aquella mascarada no tenía fronteras, sin embargo, la figura en cuestión lo traspasaba e iba incluso más allá de lo que el liberal criterio del príncipe toleraba. En el corazón de los más temerarios hay cuerdas que no pueden tocarse sin emoción. Hasta el más relajado de los seres, para quien la vida y la muerte son igualmente un juego, sabe que hay cosas que no se prestan para jugar (...)”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Masque of the Red Death

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