I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYLife 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!
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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Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.
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Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
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Sometimes it’s better to put love into hugs than to put it into words. Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
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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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This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
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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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Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.
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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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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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The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
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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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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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Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
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Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
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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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Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
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Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
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Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
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When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
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Words are but holy as the deeds they cover.
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It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
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The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY