Other friends have flown before— On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before. Then the bird said, Nevermore. Startled.

The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn,—not the material of my every-day existence--but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness.

I have not only labored solely for the benefit of others (receiving for myself a miserable pittance), but have been forced to model my thoughts at the will of men whose imbecility was evident to all but themselves.

There can be no doubt that the consciousness of the rapid increase of my superstition—for why should I not so term it?—served mainly to accelerate the increase itself. Such, I have long known, is the paradoxical.