30 quotes by Edgar Allan Poe for those who appreciate his stories

Those who dream during the day are aware of many things that escape those who dream only at night.

Misfortune is manifold. Unhappiness on earth takes many forms.

How dark a regret! But how beautiful is hope!

It is a fair bet that every public idea, every accepted convention is foolish, because it has become convenient for the majority.

All created things are thoughts of God.

Friends, dreams – mortals. All – all are gone. You’re leaving tomorrow too.

Poetry is the rhythmic creation of beauty in words.

To be happy up to a certain point you must have suffered up to that same point.

But if, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, then, in fact, sadness originates from joy.

White hair is archives of the past.

There is no rare beauty without something odd about the proportions.

Nobody tries to be perfect because they think life will lose its fun. But did anyone ever get to be perfect to be able to say that?

Worse than finding it normal to be wrong, is considering stupidity to be correct.

The real life of the human being consists of being happy, mainly because he is always hoping to be happy very soon.

Perhaps it is the very simplicity of the matter that leads us astray.

The only way to preserve man’s freedom is to be always ready to die for it.

Science has not yet ascertained whether or not madness is the most sublime of intelligences.

I became a madman, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

Perversity is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart.

Everything we see or look like is but a dream within a dream.

In that darkness for a long time I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal had ever dared to dream before.

I have great faith in fools. My friends call it self-confidence.

Happiness is not in science, but in acquiring science.

No man who has lived knows more about the afterlife than you or I.

All artwork must start at the end.

Convinced myself, I do not try to convince others.

Beauty of any kind in its supreme manifestation inevitably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

When a madman seems completely lucid, it’s time to put on the straitjacket.

With me, poetry was not a purpose, but a passion.

The terror of my stories comes from the obscurity of my heart.