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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #poe
To go where no one else has ever gone before is the secret of heroism. ↗
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I looked for that which is not, nor can be, And hope deferred made my heart sick, in truth; But years must pass before a hope of youth Is resigned utterly. I watched and waited with a steadfast will: And, tho' the object seemed to fly away That I so longed for, ever, day by day, I watched and waited still. Sometimes I said,-'This thing shall be no more; My expectation wearies, and shall cease; I will resign it now, and be at peace.'- Yet never gave it o'er. Sometimes I said,-'It is an empty name I long for; to a name why should I give The peace of all the days I have to live?'- Yet gave it all the same. Alas! thou foolish one,- alike unfit For healthy joy and salutary pain, Thou knowest the chase useless, and again Turnest to follow it. ↗
Want of imagination makes things unreal enough to be destroyed. By imagination I mean knowledge and love. I mean compassion. People of power kill children, the old send the young to die, because they have no imagination. They have power. Can you have power and imagination at the same time? Can you kill people you don’t know and have compassion for them at the same time? ↗
Imagination is a very high sort of seeing, which does not come by study, but by the intellect being where and what it sees, by sharing the path, or circuits of things through forms, and so making them translucid to others. ↗
...imagine what you are writing about. See it and live it. Do not think it up laboriously, as if you were working out mental arithmetic. Just look at it, touch it, smell it, listen to it, turn yourself into it. When you do this, the words look after themselves, like magic. ↗
I have seen it over and over, the same sea, the same, slightly, indifferently swinging above the stones, icily free above the stones, above the stones and then the world. If you should dip your hand in, your wrist would ache immediately, your bones would begin to ache and your hand would burn as if the water were a transmutation of fire that feeds on stones and burns with a dark gray flame. If you tasted it, it would first taste bitter, then briny, then surely burn your tongue. It is like what we imagine knowledge to be: dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free, drawn form the cold hard mouth of the world, derived from the rocky breasts forever, flowing and drawn, and since our knowledge is historical, flowing, and flown. ↗
After the leaves have fallen, we return To a plain sense of things. It is as if We had come to an end of the imagination, Inanimate in an inert savoir. ↗
