Edgar Allan Poe Quotes

Life is a tragedy wherein we sit as spectators for a while and then act our part in it.

Life is a tragedy, one way or another. What is certain is that you die.

The romantic treatment of death asserts that people were made singular, made more interesting, by their illnesses.

Every loss of life is terrible.

Life will end in death and unhappiness, but we do it anyway.

Because death and illness are the most horrible things in life, of course that's where the most absurdly funny things are going to happen.

Visually speaking, nothing calls Shakespeare to mind like Hamlet holding Yorick's skull.

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time.

'Hamlet' is one of the most dangerous things ever set down on paper. All the big, unknowable questions like what it is to be a human being; the difference between sanity and insanity; the meaning of life and death; what's real and not real. All these subjects can literally drive you mad.

Any art worthy of its name should address 'life', 'man', 'nature', 'death' and 'tragedy'.

My suggestion is that there's no way out of the human condition. Sex, death, marriage, children, parents, illness. There's no way out. They're a misery, all of them.

The vast area of the second story of that noblest of Washington buildings, the Patent Office, is crowded close with rows of sick, badly wounded and dying soldiers. They are placed in three very large apartments. I have gone there many times. It is strange, solemn, and with all its features of suffering and death.

The lot of man is to suffer and die.What's gone is of no consequence.

And now brothers, I will ask you a terrible question, and God knows I ask it also of myself. Is the truth beyond all truths, beyond the stars, just this: that to live without him is the real death, that to die with him the only life?

The living will envy the dead.

Life is a disease, brother, and death begins already at birth. Every breath, every heartbeat, is a moment of dying - a little shove toward the end.

We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep--it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself.

For it is the suffering flesh, it is suffering, it is death, that lovers perpetuate upon the earth. Love is at once the brother, son, and father of death, which is its sister, mother, and daughter. And thus it is that in the depth of love there is a depth

We can only begin to live when we conceive life as Tragedy.

When death comes too near, comedy and tragedy fall silent.

If you're a Shakespeare fan, isn't that a way to negotiate sex and death?

Life's true face is the skull.

The first and foremost reality is that suffering and death are not only enemies of life, but a means of reminding us of life's twin realities, love and hate.

Death did not play favorites—He loved all equally. What you cannot escape, you must fight; what you cannot fight, you must endure . The god's voice—not quite words, just a thread of meaning laid in my receptive mind—

Philosophy has often attempted to repress insolence by asserting that all conditions are leveled by death; a position which, however it may defect the happy, will seldom afford much comfort to the wretched.