There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms –of spiritual and meaning eyes –of sounds, musical yet sad –a remembrance which will not be excluded; a memory like a shadow, vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady; and like a shadow, too, in the impossibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my reason shall exist.
I’ve been rereading a lot of Poe here lately, and I have fallen back in love with him.
The way he was able to tap into the undiscovered or unwanted morbid parts of the human mind, the way he sparked interest in the masses in something they never even imagined, and the way he so eloquently described the unknown all make him the GOAT.
The quote I included at the top has stuck with me for the past few days, there being something about it that makes me feel…uncomfortably comfortable. Memory and delusion together really make for quite the mood.
I’ve felt like this many times; a distant vague memory of a former life, of a former love, of a former time altogether, though I can never quite place it. It will stick in my mind and I will turn it over and over trying to analyze it’s source, to always eventually let it pass by.
Perhaps, however, you interpreted this quote in a completely different way. Thoughts?
Also, do you have a favorite Poe quote/tale? I am very fond of Berenice, obviously.