I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYHistory is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer; and the vessel of the state is driven between the Scylla and Charybdis of anarchy and despotism.
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The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying.
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
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We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
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Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
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Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.
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Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
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In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
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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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I love all waste And solitary places; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
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Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
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I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
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Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
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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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Words are but holy as the deeds they cover.
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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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It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
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Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes – are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.
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Sometimes The Devil is a gentleman.
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And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
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Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
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There is no disease, bodily or mental, which adoption of vegetable diet, and pure water has not infallibly mitigated, wherever the experiment has been fairly tried.
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Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
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I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright.
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The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY