Quotes of: Edgar-allan-poe Keyword

The only thing we can do is to say ‘Fuck it’ over and over again, really loud, until someone stops us.

The Time Traveler's Wife

Bookish people, who are often maladroit people, persist in thinking they can master any subtlety so long as it's been shaped into acceptable expository prose.

Unless

Show me a fantasy novel about Chernobyl--there isn't one! Because reality is more fantastic.

Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster

It has been said of dreams that they are a 'controlled psychosis,' or, put another way, a psychosis is a dream breaking through during waking hours.

VALIS

Fear can make you do more wrong than hate or jealousy... fear makes you always, always hold something back.

VALIS

The mentally disturbed do not employ the Principle of Scientific Parsimony: the most simple theory to explain a given set of facts. They shoot for the baroque.

VALIS

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." [ ]

The Works of Anne Bradstreet

Some people who are obsessed with food become gourmet chefs. Others become eating disorders.

Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

Even if their supplies of love are finite, they've figured out that life is, too, and they're no longer rationing.

Which Brings Me to You: A Novel in Confessions

Get to work. Your work is to keep cranking the flywheel that turns the gears that spin the belt in the engine of belief that keeps you and your desk in midair.

The Writing Life

So it is that a writer writes many books. In each book, he intended several urgent and vivid points, many of which he sacrificed as the book's form hardened.

The Writing Life

In working-class France, when an apprentice got hurt, or when he got tired, the experienced workers said "It is the trade entering his body.

The Writing Life

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour and with that one, is what we are doing.

The Writing Life

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words and not one of them can save me.

Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

He's lost his colour very far from here, Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry

The War Poems

Happy?" asked Aquilina, with dreadful look, and a smile full of pity and terror. "Ah, you do not know what it is to be condemned to a life of pleasure.

The Wild Ass's Skin

A beloved daughter who now spent holidays alone.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

I put her burnt bones into my mouth and swallowed them whole.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

In my perception, the world wasn't a graph or formula or an equation. It was a story.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

Traveling outgrows its motives. It soon proves sufficient in itself. You think you are making a trip, but soon it is making you - or unmaking you.

The Way of the World

We are beginning to wonder whether a servant girl hasn't the best of it after all. She knows how the salad tastes without the dressing, and she knows how life's lived before it gets to the parlor door.

Djuna Barnes