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And so, being young and dipt in folly I fell in love with melancholy, And used to throw my earthly rest And quiet all away in jest — I could not love… - Edgar Allan Poe
" "And so, being young and dipt in folly
I fell in love with melancholy,
And used to throw my earthly rest
And quiet all away in jest — I could not love except where Death
Was mingling his with Beauty's breath — Or Hymen, Time, and Destiny
Were stalking between her and me.
English
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About Edgar Allan Poe
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).
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
Poe
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Edgar Poe
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E. A. Poe
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Edgar A. Poe
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Quarles
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Additional quotes by Edgar Allan Poe
After reading all that has been written, and after thinking all that can be thought on the topics of God and the soul, the man who has a right to say that he thinks at all, will find himself face to face with the conclusion that, on these topics, the most profound thought is that which can be the least easily distinguished from the most superficial sentiment.
PREMIUM FEATURE
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Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone — Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness — for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee — and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still. [...]
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