The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYIn fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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It is only by softening and disguising dead flesh by culinary preparation that it is rendered susceptible of mastication or digestion, and that the sight of its bloody juices and raw horror does not excite intolerable loathing and disgust.
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Love’s very pain is sweet, But its reward is in the world divine Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.
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Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
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Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came, A portion of the Eternal.
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Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.
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Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
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Sing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.
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Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs, – To the silent wilderness, Where the soul need not repress Its music.
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Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
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The psychological and moral comfort of a presence at once humble and understanding-this is the greatest benefit that the dog has bestowed upon man.
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I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
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The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
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I love tranquil solitude And such society As is quiet, wise, and good.
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When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.
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I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won.
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Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
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Heaven’s ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon’s unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
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The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
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Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, – but it returneth!
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A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
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Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
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Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
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Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.
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There Is No God. This negation must be understood solely to affect a creative Deity. The hypothesis of a pervading Spirit co-eternal with the universe remains unshaken.
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Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.
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The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY