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Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

Quotations

  • ''Taught me my alphabet to say,
    To lisp my very earliest word,''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. Romance (l. 7-8). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
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  • ''Of late, eternal Condor years
    So shake the very Heaven on high
    With tumult as they thunder by,
    I have no time for idle cares
    Through gazing on the unquiet sky.''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. Romance (l. 11-15). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
  • ''The want of an international Copy-Right Law, by rendering it nearly impossible to obtain anything from the booksellers in the way of 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 (1809-1849), U.S. author. "Some Secrets of the Magazine Prison-House," Broadway Journal (1845). Poe's heroic crusade for the recognition of literary genius.
  • ''Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
    And driven the hamadryad from the wood
    To seek a shelter in some happier star?
    Hast thou not torn the naiad from her flood,
    The elfin from the green grass, and from me
    The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. Sonnet—To Science (l. 9-16). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
  • ''Science! true daughter of old Time thou art!
    Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
    Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
    Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
    How should he love thee—or how deem thee wise
    Who woulds't not leave him in his wandering,''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. Sonnet—To Science (l. 1-6). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
  • ''If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, the opportunity is his own—the road to immortal renown lies straight, open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple—a few plain words—"My Heart Laid Bare." But—this little book must be true to its title.''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1845), U.S. poet, critic, short-story writer. repr. In The Centenary Poe, ed. Montagu Slater (1949). "Suggested Title—'Heart Laid Bare'," Marginalia (1844-1849). My Heart Laid Bare was the translation title given to Baudelaire's Intimate Journals, trans. by Christopher Isherwood (1930).
  • ''This wild star—it is now three centuries since, with clasped hands, and with streaming eyes,... I spoke it ... into birth.''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. author. The angel Agathos, in "The Power of Words," Democratic Review (1845). Expressing Poe's longing for telekinetic powers.
  • ''And all my days are trances,
    And all my nightly dreams
    Are where thy dark eye glances,
    And where thy footstep gleams—
    In what ethereal dances,
    By what eternal streams.''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. The Assignation (l. 21-26). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
  • ''While the stars that oversprinkle
    All the heavens, seem to twinkle
    With a crystalline delight;
    Keeping time, time, time,
    In a sort of Runic rhyme,
    To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
    From the bells, bells, bells, bells,''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. The Bells (l. 6-12). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.
  • ''Hear the sledges with the bells—
    Silver bells!''
    Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), U.S. poet. The Bells (l. 1-2). . . Complete Poems and Selected Essays [Edgar Allan Poe]. Richard Gray, ed. (1993) Everyman.

Read more quotations »

To Helen - 1848

I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
I must not say how many- but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,

[Hata Bildir]