Quote

And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave.

Edgar Allan Poe

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Edgar Allan Poe
Age: 40 †
Born: 1809
Born: January 19
Died: 1849
Died: October 7
Author
Crime Writer
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Literary Theorist
Lyricist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Poe
Edgar Poe
E. A. Poe
Rest
Stole
Rich
Note
Thought
Grave
Must
Graves
Like
Fancy
Notes
Musical
Pendulums
Sweet
Gothic

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Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
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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.
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It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.
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Man is an animal that diddles, and there is no animal that diddles but man.
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Even in the grave, all is not lost.
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True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am but why will you say that I am mad?
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The world is a great ocean, upon which we encounter more tempestuous storms than calms.
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The best things in life make you sweaty.
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As the strong man exults in his physical ability, delighting in such exercises as call his muscles into action, so glories the analyst in that moral activity which disentangles.
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Lord help my poor soul.
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All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.
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Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors ... on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer themselves to be revealed.
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The fever called living Is conquer'd at last.
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Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance.
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