Views: 413
Date created: April 2010
Birthdate October 31, 1795
Zodiac
Location Moorgate, United Kingdom
Country
Etnhnicity
Job poets,
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing -- to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.
The poetry of the earth is never dead.
Think of my Pleasure in Solitude, in comparison of my commerce with the world - there I am a child - there they do not know me not even my most intimate acquaintance - I give into their feelings as though I were refraining from irritating a little child - Some think me middling, others silly, other foolish - every one thinks he sees my weak side against my will; when in thruth it is with my will - I am content to be thought all this because I have in my own breast so graet a resource. This is one great reason why they like me so; because they can all show to advantage in a room, and eclipese from a certain tact one who is reckoned to be a good Poet - I hope I am not here playing tricks 'to make the angels weep': I think not: for I have not the least contempt for my species; and though it may sound paradoxical: my greatest elevations of Soul leave me every time more humbled - Enough of this - though in your Love for me you will not think it enough.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; It will never Pass into nothingness.
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?-John Keats
There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify - so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in the rubbish.
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on.
Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.
Touch has a memory.
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.
Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz
Beauty is truth, and truth is beauty.
So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
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