One of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind’s imagining into another
JOHN KEATSI am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
More John Keats Quotes
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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.
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Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
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Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine?
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The air is all softness.
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Its better to lose your ego to the One you Love than to lose the One you Love to your Ego
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If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true.
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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
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I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.
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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
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That which is creative must create itself.
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Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
JOHN KEATS -
To silence gossip, don’t repeat it.
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She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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The excellence of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate, from their being in close relationship with beauty and truth.
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Touch has a memory. O say, love say, What can I do to kill it and be free In my old liberty?
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Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
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I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
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Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art– Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite.
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You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
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The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown – the Air is our robe of state – the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
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All writing is a form of prayer.
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You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.
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And when thou art weary I’ll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.
JOHN KEATS