Edgar Allan Poe

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute which goes directly to the heart of him read more

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere man

There are few cases in which mere popularity should be considered a proper test of merit; but the case of read more

There are few cases in which mere popularity should be considered a proper test of merit; but the case of song-writing is, I think, one of the few.

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned read more

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all, and thus would have been at the mercy of the Prefect

And still the Raven, never flitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of read more

And still the Raven, never flitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas
Just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming
Of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming
Throws his shadow on the floor,
And my soul from out that shadow,
That lies floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted--nevermore.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.