All Edgar Allan Poe quotes ⇑
I intend to put up with nothing that I can put down.Book Reading
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?Death Life
I have great faith in fools - self-confidence my friends will call it.Faith Humor
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.Time Future Past
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.Short
The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.Beauty Death Poetry Women
We loved with a love that was more than love.Love Short
Yet mad I am not...and very surely do I not dream.Dreams
Invisible things are the only realities.Humor
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.Poetry Passion
Every moment of the night Forever changing places And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces
Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded...
If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered. 
I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active - not more happy - nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago. 
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. 
The true genius shudders at incompleteness - imperfection - and usually prefers silence to saying the something which is not everything that should be said. 
It is a happiness to wonder; -- it is a happiness to dream. 
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
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.
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.
Yet mad I am not...and very surely do I not dream.
Invisible things are the only realities.
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
Every moment of the night Forever changing places And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces
Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded...