Quote

It is the curse of a certain order of mind, that it can never rest satisfied with the consciousness of its ability to do a thing.Still less is it content with doing it. It must both know and show how it was done.

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
Never
Stills
Satisfied
Certain
Consciousness
Still
Rest
Reason
Ability
Done
Less
Must
Show
Thing
Shows
Curse
Mind
Order
Content

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Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells, From the bells, bells, bells.
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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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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.
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...for her whom in life thou dids't abhor, in death thou shalt adore
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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.
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Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.
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There are two bodies - the rudimental and the complete corresponding with the two conditions of the worm and the butterfly. What we call death, is but the painful metamorphosis. Our present incarnation is progressive, preparatory, temporary. Our future is perfected, ultimate, immortal. The ultimate life is the full design.
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Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore. Quoth the Raven, Nevermor
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Sound loves to revel in a summer night.
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The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
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In reading some books we occupy ourselves chiefly with the thoughts of the author in perusing others, exclusively with our own.
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And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted -- Nevermore!
Edgar Allan Poe
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Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heartone of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man.
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Sound-- That stealeth ever on the ear of him Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim, And sees the darkness coming as a cloud-- Is not its form--its voice--most palpable and loud?
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If a man deceives me once, shame on him if he deceives me twice, shame on me.
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The object, Truth, or the satisfaction of the intellect, and the object, Passion, or the excitement of the heart, are, although attainable, to a certain extent, in poetry, far more readily attainable in prose.
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Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly, I wished the morrow - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Leonore - For the rare and radiant maiden who the angels name Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.
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In one case out of a hundred a point is excessively discussed because it is obscure in the ninety-nine remaining it is obscure because it is excessively discussed.
Edgar Allan Poe
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For my own part, I have never had a thought which I could not set down in words, with even more distinctness than that with which I conceived it.
Edgar Allan Poe
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The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain-tops where she is found.
Edgar Allan Poe