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Are we not formed, as notes of music are, For one another, though dissimilar?

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Age Art Artist Creation Music Painting Philosophy Poet
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Cry Fear Future Past
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Garden Growth Kiss Light Night Open Plant Wind Young
Sometimes it’s better to put love into hugs than to put it into words. Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Better Lips Love Soul Word
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Command Man Obey Soul Virtue
Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes – are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Fame Gold Idol Love Power Worship
If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

God Religion Satisfaction Talk World
Sometimes The Devil is a gentleman.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Devil Disguise Man One Liner
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Autumn Harmony See Sky Summer Thinking
I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Laughter Myself Rain Thunder Travel
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bed Death Earth Failure Flower Leaving Lying Sun Warm Wind
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead – When the cloud is scattered The rainbow’s glory is shed.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Break Death Glory Lie Light
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Care Cat Happiness Myself Thinking Way
Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Alone Black Myself Night Shadow Star World
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bird Cheerful Darkness Poet Solitude Sound Sweet
Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

City Fame Hell Popular Smoke

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