A poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted -- Nevermore! — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“we then busied our souls in dreams—reading, writing, or conversing, until warned by the clock of the advent of the true Darkness.” — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
The reproduction of what the senses perceive in nature through the veil of the soul. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
After reading all that has been written, and after thinking all that can be thought, on the topics of God and the… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my soul —a sensation which will admit of no analysis,… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“Very suddenly there came back to my soul motion and sound—the tumultuous motion of the heart, and, in my ears, the sound… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
There is no passion in nature so demoniacally impatient, as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to accommodate his incidents; but having conceived, with deliberate care, a certain unique or single effect to be wrought out, he then invents as may best aid him in establishing this preconceived effect. If his very initial sentence tend not to the outbringing of… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share
“During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night. — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“I have said that the sole effect of my somewhat childish experiment—that of looking down within the tarn—had been to deepen the first singular impression. There can be no doubt that the consciousness of the rapid increase of my superstition—for why should I not so term it?—served mainly to accelerate the increase itself. Such, I have long known, is the… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share
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 Copy Share
“Other friends have flown before — On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“To the right and left, as far as the eye could reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the world, lines of horridly black… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors ... on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
