Edgar Allan Poe Novelist
						
- Gender: Male
- Citizenship: United States
- Born: Jan 19, 1809
- Died: Oct 7, 1849
Edgar Allan Poe was an American author, poet, editor, and literary critic, considered part of the American Romantic Movement. Best known for his tales of mystery and the macabre, Poe was one of the earliest American practitioners of the short story, and is generally considered the inventor of the detective fiction genre. He is further credited with contributing to the emerging genre of science fiction. He was the first well-known American writer to try to earn a living through writing alone, resulting in a financially difficult life and career.
Born in Boston, Poe was the second child of two actors. His father abandoned the family in 1810, and his mother died the following year. Thus orphaned, the child was taken in by John and Frances Allan, of Richmond, Virginia. Although they never formally adopted him, Poe was with them well into young adulthood. Tension developed later as John Allan and Edgar repeatedly clashed over debts, including those incurred by gambling, and the cost of secondary education for the young man. Poe attended the University of Virginia for one semester but left due to lack of money.
		
					
			
			
	
		Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.
		imagination
	 
	
		The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
		best, death & life
	 
	
		It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.
		nature & truth
	 
	
		Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
		beauty & poetry
	 
	
		Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.
		power
	 
	
		We loved with a love that was more than love.
		love
	 
	
		I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.
		beauty & poetry
	 
	
	
		The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world.
		death
	 
	
		I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.
		pets
	 
	
		To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness.
		greatness
	 
	
		With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.
		poetry
	 
	
		Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
		dreams
	 
	
		The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led.
		imagination & time
	 
	
		Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.
		beauty
	 
	
		Man's real life is happy, chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so.
		life
	 
	
		Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence.
		intelligence & science
	 
	
		I have great faith in fools self-confidence my friends call it.
		faith & greatness
	 
	
		It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.
		the future