Direct Quotes from Edgar Allan Poe – Unveiling the Genius of a Literary Master

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

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

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.

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

Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.

I became aware of the old myth of the dragon devouring the sun; that all seemed beautiful to me.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Direct Quotes from Edgar Allan Poe – Unveiling the Genius of a Literary Master part 2

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

There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.

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

It is a happiness to wonder; it is a happiness to dream.

I have no faith in human perfectibility.

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

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague.

To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths!

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream by night.

I have often avoided allusion to the more modern poets, but cannot refrain from expressing my admiration of the grotesque and facile genius of Edgar Allan Poe.

The scents and sounds and the radiation of light have all considerable share in the pleasure we derive from beauty.

There are certain themes with which a writer may play when he plays with his own heart.

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness.

Lord, here I stand, infinite in all things but my capabilities of evil!

In the truest poetry, wherein the mind shines most through its oppugnancy.

To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness.

Man’s religion should not be human, but should come from the heart.

There is no beauty without some strangeness.

Science has demonstrated that all the world’s religions have been founded in fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

The sweetest songs are those which tell of the saddest thoughts.

With every day that passed, I grew more and more consumed by my obsession.

The boundaries between the living and the dead are not as solid as they may seem.

The most glorious death is to die laughing.

A writer must be willing to explore the depths of his own heart.

There is poetry in the scents and sounds of the world around us.

Sometimes the mind shines brightest when it is in opposition to itself.

A great man is often vilified by those seeking their own greatness.

True religion should come from the heart, not from human teachings.

True beauty is often intertwined with strangeness.

The saddest thoughts often inspire the sweetest songs.

Obsession can consume and control the mind, turning it into something unrecognizable.

Death is not the ultimate end; the boundaries between life and death are blurred.

True greatness is revealed through the willingness to explore the darker aspects of humanity.

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

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

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.

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

Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.

I became aware of the old myth of the dragon devouring the sun; that all seemed beautiful to me.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

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

There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.

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

It is a happiness to wonder; it is a happiness to dream.

I have no faith in human perfectibility.

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

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague.

To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths!

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream by night.

I have often avoided allusion to the more modern poets, but cannot refrain from expressing my admiration of the grotesque and facile genius of Edgar Allan Poe.

The scents and sounds and the radiation of light have all considerable share in the pleasure we derive from beauty.

There are certain themes with which a writer may play when he plays with his own heart.

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness.

Lord, here I stand, infinite in all things but my capabilities of evil!

In the truest poetry, wherein the mind shines most through its oppugnancy.

To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness.

Man’s religion should not be human, but should come from the heart.

There is no beauty without some strangeness.

Science has demonstrated that all the world’s religions have been founded in fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

The sweetest songs are those which tell of the saddest thoughts.

With every day that passed, I grew more and more consumed by my obsession.

The boundaries between the living and the dead are not as solid as they may seem.

The most glorious death is to die laughing.

A writer must be willing to explore the depths of his own heart.

There is poetry in the scents and sounds of the world around us.

Sometimes the mind shines brightest when it is in opposition to itself.

A great man is often vilified by those seeking their own greatness.

True religion should come from the heart, not from human teachings.

True beauty is often intertwined with strangeness.

The saddest thoughts often inspire the sweetest songs.

Obsession can consume and control the mind, turning it into something unrecognizable.

Death is not the ultimate end; the boundaries between life and death are blurred.

True greatness is revealed through the willingness to explore the darker aspects of humanity.