Frases de Edgar Allan Poe

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“Tudo o que vemos ou nos parece vermos não é mais do que um sonho dentro de outro sonho.”

“A ciência não averiguou ainda se a loucura é ou não a mais sublime das inteligências.”

“Tudo o que amei, amei sozinho.”

“Não há beleza rara sem algo de estranho nas proporções.”

“Naquela escuridão, por muito tempo fiquei ali parado, imaginado,
temendo, duvidando, sonhando sonhos que nenhum mortal jamais ousou sonhar antes.”

“Nenhum homem que tenha vivido conhece mais sobre a vida depois da morte que eu ou você. Toda religião simplesmente desenvolveu-se com base no medo, ganância, imaginação e poesia.”

“A vida real do homem é feliz, principalmente porque está sempre à espera de o ser em breve.”

“As quatro condições elementares para a felicidade são: vida ao ar livre, amor de mulher, ausência de qualquer ambição e a criação de um novo e belo ideal.”

“Quando um louco parece completamente sensato, já é o momento de pôr-lhe a camisa de força.”

“Convencido eu mesmo, não procuro convencer os demais.”

“E nenhum poema será tão grande, tão nobre, tão verdadeiramente digno do nome de poesia quanto aquele que foi escrito tão só e apenas pelo prazer de escrever um poema.”

“A poesia é a criação rítmica da beleza em palavras.”

“Comigo a poesia não foi um propósito, mas uma paixão.”

“Os cabelos brancos são arquivos do passado.”

“O homem não se entrega aos anjos, nem se rende inteiramente à morte, senão pela fraqueza de sua débil vontade.”

“Todas as obras de arte devem começar pelo final.”

“Mas assim como na ética o mal é uma conseqüência do bem, assim, com efeito, da nossa alegria tem nascido a dor.”

“Quem sonha de dia tem consciência de muitas coisas que escapam a quem sonha só de noite.”

“É de se apostar que toda ideia pública, toda convenção aceita seja uma tolice, pois se tornou conveniente à maioria.”

“Talvez seja a própria simplicidade do assunto que nos conduz ao erro.”

“Na minha opinião, o crime perfeito existe.”

“Defino a poesia das palavras como Criação rítmica da Beleza. O seu único juiz é o Gosto.”

“Todas as coisas criadas são pensamentos de Deus.”

“Para sermos felizes até certo ponto é preciso que tenhamos sofrido até o mesmo ponto.”

“A indefinção é um elemento da verdadeira música (poesia) - quero dizer, da verdadeira expressão musical… - indefinição sugestiva do significado com vistas a produzir a definitude de um efeito vago e, portanto, espiritual.”

“Se você deseja esquecer algo, anote que esse item deve ser lembrado.”

“A perversidade é um dos impulsos primitivos do coração humano.”

“Senhor, ajude minha pobre alma.”

“A enorme multiplicação de livros em todos os ramos do conhecimento é uma das maiores pragas desta era, porque é um sério obstáculo à aquisição de qualquer conhecimento positivo.”

“Não é na ciência que está a felicidade, mas na aquisição da ciência.”

“E as trevas, a decadência e a morte vermelha detinham domínio ilimitado sobre todos.”

“In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace —
Radiant palace — reared its head.”

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

“"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!"”

“The best things in life make you sweaty”

“I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered her personal violence.”

“Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!”

“With me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion; and the passions should be held in reverence: they must not — they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commendations, of mankind.”

“And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams —
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.”

“Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?”

“If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize at one effort the universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, the opportunity is his own — the road to immortal renown lies straight, open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple — a few plain words — "My Heart Laid Bare."”

“For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not — and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul.”

“Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied, —
"If you seek for Eldorado!”

“Can it be fancied that Deity ever vindictively
Made in his image a mannikin merely to madden it?”

“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”

“Had the routine of our life at this place been known to the world, we should have been regarded as madmen —; although, perhaps, as madmen of a harmless nature.”

“The happiest day — the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.”

“Beneath the pressure of torments such as these, the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughts became my sole intimates — the darkest and most evil of thoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers.”

“It is with literature as with law or empire — an established name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in possession.”

“O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?”

“"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore.”

“There is no oath which seems to me so sacred as that sworn by the all-divine love I bear you. — By this love, then, and by the God who reigns in Heaven, I swear to you that my soul is incapable of dishonor — that, with the exception of occasional follies and excesses which I bitterly lament, but to which I have been driven by intolerable sorrow, and which are hourly committed by others without attracting any notice whatever — I can call to mind no act of my life which would bring a blush to my cheek — or to yours. If I have erred at all, in this regard, it has been on the side of what the world would call a Quixotic sense of the honorable — of the chivalrous.”

“And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.”

“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.”

“And all I loved, I loved alone. ”

“I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.”

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

“You have conquered, and I yield. Yet, henceforward art thou also dead—dead to the World, to Heaven and to Hope! In me didst thou exist—and, in my death, see by this image, which is thine own, how utterly thou hast murdered thyself.”

“Thus it appeared, I say, but was not. It was my antagonist—it was Wilson, who then stood before me in the agonies of his dissolution. His mask and cloak lay, where he had thrown them, upon the floor. Not a thread in all his raiment—not a line in all the marked and singular lineaments of his face which was not, even in the most absolute identity, mine own!”

“A large mirror,—so at first it seemed to me in my confusion—now stood where none had been perceptible before; and, as I stepped up to it in extremity of terror, mine own image, but with features all pale and dabbled in blood, advanced to meet me with a feeble and tottering gait.”