Men live in glad obedience to the masters they believe in, or they live in a frictional opposition to the master they wish to undermine.

And to my lips' Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my slim White body drips The shining hymn.

I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.

They say geniuses mostly have great mothers. They mostly have sad fates.

What we want is to destroy our false, inorganic connections, especially those related to money, and re-establish the living organic connections, with the cosmos, the sun and earth, with mankind and nation and family. Start with the sun, and the rest will slowly, slowly happen.

I am a man and alive. For this reason I am a novelist. And, being a novelist, I consider myself superior to the saint, te scientist, the philosopher, and the poet, who are all great masters of different bits of man alive, but never get the whole hog....Only in the novel are all things given full play.

Poe tried alcohol, and any drug he could lay his hands on. He also tried any human being he could lay his hands on.