All works of art should begin... at the end.
A mystery, and a dream, should my early life seem.
Once upon a midnight dreary
There is no passion in nature so demoniacally impatient, as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a Plunge.
I am walking like a bewitched corpse, with the certainty of being eaten by the infinite, of being annulled by the only existing Absurd.
...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair.
Democracy is a very admirable form of government - for dogs
Truth is not always in a well. In fact, as regards the more important knowledge, I do believe that she is invariably superficial. The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain-tops where she is found.
No man who ever lived knows any more about the hereafter than you and I.
Come little children I'll take thee away, into a land of Enchantment Come little children the time's come to play here in my garden of Shadows Follow sweet children I'll show thee the way through all the pain and the Sorrows Weep not poor childlen for life is this way murdering beauty and Passions Hush now dear children it must be this way to weary of life and Deceptions Rest now my children for soon we'll away into the calm and the Quiet Come little children I'll take thee away, into a land of Enchantment Come little children the time's come to play here in my garden of Shadows
There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.
The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame.
There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.
It may well be doubted whether human ingenuity can construct an enigma... which human ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve.
Who cares how time advances? I am drinking ale today.
We loved with a love that was more than love.
Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in waking, to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret. In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good, and more of the mere knowledge which is of evil.
The most natural, and, consequently, the truest and most intense of the human affections are those which arise in the heart as if by electric sympathy.
To speak algebraically, Mr. M. is execrable, but Mr. G. is (x + 1)- ecrable.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting...
The people have nothing to do with the laws but to obey them.
In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember.
How many good books suffer neglect through the inefficiency of their beginnings!
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
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