A small and sinister snow seems to be coming down relentlessly at present. The radio says it is eventually going to be sleet and rain, but I don't think so; I think it is just going to go on and on, coming down, until the whole world...etc. It has that look.

— Edward Gorey

I am a person before I am anything else. I never say I am a writer. Furthermore, I never say I am an artist... I am a person who does those things.

— Edward Gorey

If a story is only what it seems to be about, then somehow the author has failed.

— Edward Gorey

I just got a rather nasty shock. In looking for something or other I came across the fact that one of my cats is about to be nine years old, and that another of them will shortly thereafter be eight; I have been laboring under the delusion they were about five and six. And yesterday I happened to notice in the mirror that while I have long since grown used to my beard being very gray indeed, I was not prepared to discover that my eyebrows are becoming noticeably shaggy. I feel the tomb is just around the corner. And there are all these books I haven't read yet, even if I am simultaneously reading at least twenty...

— Edward Gorey

I really think I write about everyday life. I don't think I'm quite as odd as others say I am. Life is intrinsically, well, boring and dangerous at the same time. At any given moment the floor may open up. Of course, it almost never does; that's what makes it so boring.

— Edward Gorey

Mr Ear brass was virtually asleep when several lines of verse passed through his mind and left it hopelessly awake. Here was the perfect epigraph for TUB:A horrid ?monster has been [something] delay'by your/their in diff'hence in the dank brown shade Below the garden... His mind's eye sees them quoted on the bottom third of a right-hand page in a (possibly) olive-bound book he read at least five years ago. When he does find them, it will be a great nuisance if no clue is given to their authorship.

— Edward Gorey

Neither mine nor other people's prospects seem particularly pleasing just at the moment, and I have fantasies of going to Iceland, never to return. As it is, I tell myself not to remember the past, not to hope or fear for the future, and not to think in the present, a comprehensive program that will undoubtedly have very little success.

— Edward Gorey

On the way home I absently minded (you know what I mean) went through a stop sign in Giannis so of course there was a police car to apprehend me. A soft answer turreted away wrath, fortunately.

— Edward Gorey

The Baron told her that only art meant anything.

— Edward Gorey

The Suicide, as she is falling, Illuminated by the moon, Regrets her act, and finds appalling The thought she will be dead so soon.

— Edward Gorey