Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
JOHN KEATSO aching time! O moments big as years!
More John Keats Quotes
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The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.
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And how they kist each other’s tremulous eyes.
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Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
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If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true.
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Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
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Is there another Life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.
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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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I want a brighter word than bright.
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Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine – Unweave a rainbow.
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An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever; and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.
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Scenery is fine – but human nature is finer.
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One of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind’s imagining into another
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Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity.
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.
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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
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A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
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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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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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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
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I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
JOHN KEATS