Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe

American author, poet
19 January 1809 — 7 October 1849

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

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The brightest and most enduring of the psychal fetters are those which are riveted by a glance.

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

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow -
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.

Years of love have been forgot,
In the hatred of a minute.

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It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.

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

I was never really insane except upon occasions where my heart was touched.

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.

If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.


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