Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

American writer and literary critic (1809–1849)

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Edgar Allan Poe, born Edgar Poe (January 19, 1809 – October 7, 1849) was an American author, a part of literary studies and was also considered by some peoples both the central and most major figure of the American Romanticism, and a part of the American literature. Poe is best known for his poetry and short stories, particularly his tales of mystery and the macabre. He is widely regarded as a central figure of Romanticism in the United States, and of American literature. Poe was one of the country's earliest practitioners of the short story, and considered to be the inventor of the detective fiction genre, as well as a significant contributor to the emerging genre of science fiction. Born in 1809 in Massachusetts, Poe was the son of American theatre actress Elizabeth Poe (mother) and David Poe, Jr. (father).

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Pen Names: Edgar A. Perry

Alternative Names: Poe • Edgar Poe • E. A. Poe • Edgar A. Poe • Quarles

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All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of chicanery, fear, greed, imagination and poetry!

I would define, in brief, the Poetry of words as the Rhythmical Creation of Beauty. Its sole arbiter is taste. With the intellect or with the conscience, it has only collateral relations. Unless incidentally, it has no concern whatever either with duty or with truth.

There neither exists nor can exist any work more thoroughly dignified — more supremely noble than this very poem — this poem per se — this poem which is a poem and nothing more — this poem written solely for the poem's sake.

I hold that a long poem does not exist. I maintain that the phrase, "a long poem," is simply a flat contradiction in terms. I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of the poem is in the ratio of this elevating excitement. But all excitements are, through a psychal necessity, transient. That degree of excitement which would entitle a poem to be so called at all, cannot be sustained throughout a composition of any great length.

A poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul.

In her sepulcher there by the sea — In her tomb by the sounding sea.

But our love it 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

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love — I and my Annabel Lee — With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee; — And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul — Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year.

The death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover.

Now 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.

Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.