Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Literature is the most noble of professions. In fact, it is about the only one fit for a man.
Edgar Allan Poe
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Noble
Fit
Literature
Fact
Facts
Men
Professions
Thoughtful
Profession
More quotes by Edgar Allan Poe
A million candles have burned themselves out. Still I read on. (Montresor)
Edgar Allan Poe
If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment.
Edgar Allan Poe
[E]very plot, worth the name, must be elaborated to its dénouement before anything be attempted with the pen. It is only with the dénouement constantly in view that we can plot its indispensable air of consequence, or causation, by making the incidents, and especially the tone at all points tend to the development of the intention.
Edgar Allan Poe
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 And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
Edgar Allan Poe
Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health.
Edgar Allan Poe
The want of an international Copy-Right Law, by rendering it nearly impossible to obtain anything from the booksellers in the wayof remuneration for literary labor, has had the effect of forcing many of our very best writers into the service of the Magazines and Reviews.
Edgar Allan Poe
Yet we met and fate bound us together at the alter,and I never spoke of passion nor thought of love. She, however shunned society, and, attaching herself to me alone rendered me happy. It is a happiness to wonder it is a happiness to dream.
Edgar Allan Poe
But in the expression of the countenance, which was beaming all over with smiles, there still lurked (incomprehensible anomalyl) that fitful strain of melancholy which will ever be found inseparable from the perfection of the beautiful.
Edgar Allan Poe
Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy but a series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.
Edgar Allan Poe
To speak algebraically, Mr. M. is execrable, but Mr. G. is (x + 1)- ecrable.
Edgar Allan Poe
But our love was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we Of many far wiser than we And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
Edgar Allan Poe
I was cautious in what I said before the young lady for I could not be sure that she was sane and, in fact, there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes that half led me to imagine she was not.
Edgar Allan Poe
True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had haunted my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Of all the sense of hearing acute.
Edgar Allan Poe
We allude to the short prose narrative, requiring from a half hour to one or two hours in its perusal
Edgar Allan Poe
I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.
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
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.
Edgar Allan Poe
A gentleman with a pug nose is a contradiction in terms.
Edgar Allan Poe
To him, who still would gaze upon the glory of the summer sun, there comes, when that sun will from him part, a sullen hopelessness of heart.
Edgar Allan Poe