Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYPoetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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Love’s very pain is sweet.
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The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
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I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
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Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
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If a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.
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Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
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All love is sweet Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
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In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
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Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
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A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan like leaves to the light, and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
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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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Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
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A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY