Today we celebrate the Death-day of one of my favorite authors, that Master of the Macabre himself, Edgar Allan Poe!
He lived a life that was almost as horrific as the stories he penned.
“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”
Edgar Allan Poe was born in a Boston boarding house on January 19, 1809. His parents were Shakespearian actors, performing in a production of King Lear. Edgar was the second of three children, with an older brother Henry and a little sister, Rosalie. His father, David Poe, a notorious alcoholic, abandoned the family in 1810 when Edgar was just one year old. The very…
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