Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger portion of the truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant.
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'
The true genius shudders at incompleteness - and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.
I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.
By Edgar Allan Poe