but it is a trait in the perversity of human nature to reject the obvious and the ready, for the far-distant and equivocal.
Edgar Allan PoeStichwörter: loss-of-breath
O craving heart, for the lost flowers/ And sunshine of my summer hours!/ The undying voice of that dead time,/ With its interminable chime,/ Rings in the spirit of a spell, / Upon thy emptiness--a knell. / I have not always been as now:
Edgar Allan PoeAnd boyhood is a summer sun / Whose waning is the dreariest one-- / For all we live to know is known, / And all we seek to keep hath flown--
Edgar Allan PoeBu acılarla dolu dünya bazen en mantıklı bakışla bile bir cehennem gibi görünür. Ama insanın hayal gücü Carathis değildir ki, bu cehennemin tünellerinde cezalandırılmadan gezebilsin. Mezara ilişkin sayısız iç karartıcı korkuların hepsine de hayali olarak bakamayız ne yazık ki. Ama, tıpkı Afrasiab'a Oxus'a yaptığı yolculukta eşlik eden iblisler gibi, uyumaları gerekir - yoksa bizi yerler. Onlar uyumalıdır, yoksa biz ölürüz.
Edgar Allan PoeChi sogna di giorno conosce molte cose che sfuggono a chi sogna solo di notte.
Edgar Allan PoeStichwörter: dreams
We have a task before us which must be speedily performed. We know that it will be ruinous to make delay. The most important crisis of our life calls, trumpet-tongued, for immediate energy and action. We glow, we are consumed with eagerness to commence the work, with the anticipation of whose glorious result our whole souls are on fire. It must, it shall be undertaken to-day, and yet we put it off until to-morrow; and why? There is no answer, except that we feel perverse, using the word with no comprehension of the principle. To-morrow arrives, and with it a more impatient anxiety to do our duty, but with this very increase of anxiety arrives, also, a nameless, a positively fearful, because unfathomable, craving for delay. This craving gathers strength as the moments fly. The last hour for action is at hand. We tremble with the violence of the conflict within us, — of the definite with the indefinite — of the substance with the shadow. But, if the contest have proceeded thus far, it is the shadow which prevails, — we struggle in vain. The clock strikes, and is the knell of our welfare. At the same time, it is the chanticleer-note to the ghost that has so long overawed us. It flies — it disappears — we are free. The old energy returns. We will labor now. Alas, it is too late!
Edgar Allan PoeStichwörter: procrastination work depression perversity
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more.
Stichwörter: the-raven verse-iii
Read this and thought of you:
Through joy and through sorrow, I wrote.
Through hunger and through thirst, I wrote.
Through good report and through ill report, I wrote.
Through sunshine and through moonshine, I wrote.
What I wrote it is unnecessary to say.
~ Edgar Allen Poe
Stichwörter: writing-through-the-rough-times
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
On the morrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before.
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